


sink street

by sleepyscoops



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Band Fic, Bullying, Heartache, Heartbreaking, I Tried, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Inspired by Music, M/M, Maybe fluff, Mentions of drugs and alcohol, Music, Songwriting, Swearing, inspired by sing street, jicheol week!, minor jihan - Freeform, minor soonwoo, side ships yay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-05
Updated: 2019-02-27
Packaged: 2019-03-27 10:18:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 30,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13878819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepyscoops/pseuds/sleepyscoops
Summary: The Jicheol Sing Street AU no one asked for....Schoolboy Jihoon finds his musical muse in aspiring model Seungcheol.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> happy jicheol week everyone!  
> this work will be split into two parts, so here's part one - hopefully i'll get the second part up soon!
> 
> inspired by the line:  
> "...apple juice watching sing street..." from check in by seventeen's hiphop team
> 
> i've been thinking a lot about sing street lately, and rewatched the movie before i [ asked twitter ](https://twitter.com/sleepyscoops/status/965813368354308102) if there were to be a jicheol sing street au....and this is the result! ^^ 
> 
> (also bc i am fucking u n o r i g i n a l, doing a sing street parody instead of an original new storyline heh.)
> 
> also features other seventeen songs: when i grow up by seventeen + one more song that will be revealed in the second part haha 
> 
> and bonus: hidden lyrics from mansae in the dialogue, look out for it ;)
> 
> may contain crude language, i apologise beforehand, but i tried keeping up with the vibes from the movie.... and i apologise for any mistakes or whatever, this was fuelled by headaches >.<
> 
> happy reading, happy jicheol week and i hope you enjoy the story! ^^

“Who’s that?” Jihoon nodded towards the handsome stranger in the denim jacket lingering across the street, as if he was waiting for someone. The stranger had chiselled features, incredibly beautiful eyes, framed by the longest eyelashes, and an enigmatic aura that attracted Jihoon instantly.

Soonyoung shrugged. “Might be a drug dealer. Or a paedophile. No one talks to him.”

Jihoon squared his shoulders, and crossed the street without hesitating.

“…except you.” Soonyoung muttered, watching the new kid approach the stranger. Lee Jihoon had just moved to Sink Street Academy – named after the huge pothole in the middle of the road in front of the school that the city council never bothered to repair – and Soonyoung was assigned to him as a ‘buddy’, helping him adjust to the new school, academically and socially.

Only that Soonyoung had told Jihoon what _not_ to do at Sink Street (like to not to talk to the stranger in the denim jacket across the street), contrary to what had been his original role as a ‘buddy’. Sink Street was an all-boys school, and things constantly got rowdy between students. On Jihoon’s first day (yesterday), he’d gotten into a face-off with the school’s greatest bully Junhui; which the whole student body (Soonyoung included) had witnessed.

_“Dance for me.” Junhui said, smirking, as he sucked on a strawberry lollipop. The din in the lunchroom went down a notch as everyone turned their attention to the two boys in the middle of the room._

_Jihoon was slightly shocked at Junhui’s sudden appearance, blocking his path. “Excuse me?”_

_“You heard me, newbie. Dance!”_

_Jihoon pursed his lips into a thin line, setting his lunch tray aside. He took a deep breath, conscious that everyone else was watching, then launched into his go-to dance move, the dougie._

_Jihoon’s slick movements enraptured everyone’s attention, until Junhui advanced forward and shoved the new boy aside, breaking his rhythm._

_“Faggot.” The bully laughed dryly and skulked for the exit. Everyone else started booing at Jihoon, who was unfazed by the whole thing, though his body was starting to become warmer in embarrassment and anger._

_“You were the one who asked me to dance. Loser.” Jihoon muttered, picking up his lunch tray._

_Junhui whirled around and lunged at the new kid. “I heard you, faggot. I’m gonna make your life so miserable that you’re gonna hate it so much here, and you’ll beg to your mummy so that you’ll move away again.” He grabbed Jihoon’s sandwich off the tray and smashed it into Jihoon’s face._

Soonyoung thought that there was something more in the fire Jihoon had in his eyes as mayo and cucumber dripped down his face onto his uniform, amidst the laughter from the other kids, and the echo of Junhui’s cackling. So he waited until the bell signifying the end of the lunch hour rang, then he approached Jihoon, who still had lettuce in his dark hair, and slid him a handwritten card.

_Edward Kwon’s Business Solutions. Price negotiable._

At the end of the day, Soonyoung had somehow made himself Jihoon’s official buddy, after getting permission from the teachers. The boy had his ways, and Jihoon was only glad he’d made an acquaintance, with a pack of Skittles per week in return.  

Soonyoung quickly found out that Jihoon was always doing the opposite things people told him to, like right now. Jihoon was already approaching the stranger who always hung out across the school, about two seconds after Soonyoung had told him not to…

“Hello.” Jihoon’s voice cracked, and the stranger smiled at him, revealing a dimple in his cheek. “Are you waiting for someone?”

The stranger in the denim jacket did a quick glance over Jihoon – from his crisp school uniform to his tattered backpack down to his against-school-regulations brown shoes (Sink Street only allowed the students to wear black ones), then back up to Jihoon’s curious eyes. “Not particularly. What’s up?”

“Uh, I don’t know. You looked lonely.” Jihoon couldn’t help but stare in awe at the man’s beauty – he looked like he came straight out of Hollywood; what was he doing in this dinky little town, hanging out across an all-boys’ school?

The stranger laughed, music to Jihoon’s ears. “I’m not. But no one’s ever talked to me whenever I hang around here.”

“Don’t you go to school?”

“Nah. I’m a model.”

Everyone else’s assumption was dead wrong, and Jihoon felt a small triumph.

“Well, I’m in a band.”

That seemed to grab the model’s interest, as his eyebrows shot up. Jihoon was outright lying through his face – sure, he has musical background, albeit mediocre; but he certainly wasn’t in a band. Jihoon didn’t even know where the lie came from; it was like some secret competition about who’s cooler between them. Surprisingly, for a person he’d just met, Jihoon’s interest ran way deeper than face value: what exactly was this man looking for?

“Cool. Maybe I’d like to hear your band play one day.”

“Y-yeah.” Jihoon stuttered, pleasantly shocked by the positive response. In the distance, the school bell rang, and students were hurrying through the gates trying to avoid tardy. “If I could have your number…y’know. So that I can contact you if my band has a gig.”

The man nodded thoughtfully, and Jihoon pulled out a random book from his bag for the man to write on, which he did, in a quick, messy scrawl.

“I’m Seungcheol, by the way.” The model handed the book back to Jihoon.

“Jihoon.” He quickly stuffed his book into his bag without reading what Seungcheol had written. “See you around.”

Soonyoung’s jaw was agape, watching the whole exchange between Jihoon and the stranger; and the two of them walked briskly into the school compound amidst the sea of students heading for class. “So what does he want?”

“I need to form a band. Stat.”  

* * *

“If there’s anyone in this world who knows everything, it’d be Wonwoo.” Soonyoung declared, knocking on the painted yellow door of the house located on what seemed to be an exclusive neighbourhood in the small town. A tall, skinny lady with bony features opened the door, and her expression immediately darkened when she saw the two boys at the door.

“Hi, Mrs Jeon.” Soonyoung said sheepishly, unable to look at the lady who opened the door.

“Are you here to break my son’s heart again?” The lady’s tone was sharp, sending chills down Jihoon’s spine.

“Um, no. Jihoon here wants to form a band.” Soonyoung grinned awkwardly, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“WONWOO!”

A skinny boy, the spitting teenage boy image of the lady appeared next to her, cradling a cat. “Mum, I can take it from here.”

“I hope they don’t stay too long. We’re out of cookies.”

“Mum.”

“Fine. Don’t call for me.” Mrs Jeon strode away, leaving the boys alone.

“This is Jihoon, he’s new at Sink Street.” Soonyoung introduced the new boy to their host.

“Huh. Come on in.” Wonwoo led them to the living room, and he let the cat roam about, sending Soonyoung on edge. The two guests took their seats on the embroidered sofa, and Wonwoo looked at them expectantly. 

“Jihoon wants to form a band.” Soonyoung said.

“…okay.” Wonwoo nodded. “Wait here.” The skinny boy left the room, and Soonyoung started touching the decorative ornament on the side table, while Jihoon looked at his surroundings. The place was well-kept with an air of elegance around it, with the old-fashioned furniture and the grandfather clock in the corner of the room; though it didn’t fit Jihoon’s taste (the house belonged in the 19th century, what were the Jeons thinking?) There were certainly a lot of embellished Faberge eggs for Soonyoung to fondle absently as they wait for Wonwoo to return.

It didn’t take long for their host to return with a laptop, and Jihoon and Soonyoung sat up straighter to listen to Wonwoo as he powered up the device.

“I have a music software in this thing. I don’t really know how to write songs but this can help. And if you wanna start a band you need to know how to play musical instruments. Do you play any?” Wonwoo was all business, which intimidated Jihoon slightly.

Jihoon hesitated; embarrassed to expose his lack of knowledge. “I know four chords on the guitar.”

“That’s enough. One song needs only four chords, anyway. You need other people to play other instruments, too.”

“We could recruit some people.” Soonyoung piped up excitedly with an idea.

Wonwoo snorted. “Like hell if anyone even plays anything at Sink Street.” The lanky boy leaned back in his seat, waiting for his laptop to power up.

“Bands write their own songs, so this software is a good place for you to start.” Wonwoo opened up the music software, which he’d never used before – it was a basic program already embedded into the laptop when he first bought it.

“Oh. This is nice.” Jihoon started playing around with the different sounds loaded into the program; already getting used to it. “But I don’t have a computer.”

“Just take this one. I have another one.” Wonwoo said nonchalantly. “So you’ll play guitar…?”

“I guess I can sing too.” Jihoon said after hesitating. The last time he’d ever sung was at church choir when he was six years old, a distant memory away.

“Figures. So we’ll need people to play the bass, keys and drums. Unless you wanna try something new, and we keep the rhythm section all electronic.” Wonwoo tinkered a bit on the software, and produced a strong drum beat, accompanied by hi-hats. Jihoon marvelled at the technology and how real the sounds were, which fuelled his fire to start playing soon, so that he can see Seungcheol again.

“That’s his way of saying that he wants to be in the band.” Soonyoung whispered towards Jihoon.

“Do you want to be in the band, Wonwoo?” Jihoon asked, as Mrs Jeon served them angel cakes on a platter, along with a piping hot pot of tea.

Their host sighed. “Fine. If I have to. Who’s your manager?”

“That’ll be me!” Soonyoung grinned widely, and Wonwoo sighed once more. His mother shot the excited boy a sharp look as she poured out tea for each of them, and made a little disapproving noise.  

“Fine. Look for people who wants to join us. Do flyers or something.” Wonwoo suggested, sipping his tea; his pinky stuck out as he held the cup.

A fluttery feeling rose in Jihoon’s chest, now that it was all systems go. Everything seemed more real. Maybe he hadn’t spent too much time on music before, playing the same four chords on his cousin’s old guitar. But at least now, he was sure that things were going to turn out better, now that he had motivation, in the form of a handsome man.

* * *

_Looking for band members for the greatest rock band in Sink Street! Contact Edward Kwon, band manager._

Soonyoung had stuck up flyers all over the school compound, even in the toilets. Most people ignored them – Sink Street Academy never encouraged the arts – but others scoffed at the idea of forming the band: to them, it was simply an outrageous way to attract attention to themselves.

Jeonghan and Joshua stood in front of the noticeboard right next to the main office, staring at the flyer.

“If we join that, everyone is going to hate us.” Joshua mumbled.

Jeonghan laughed bitterly, running his fingers through his dyed peach hair, which matched Joshua’s. “We’re the Peach Twins. Everyone hates us, anyway. Besides, it’s our last year here, I won’t care if anyone tells me to jack off, ‘cause screw them.” The pair had always been friends, doing everything together; and even dyed their hair in the same shade of light peach in solidarity, earning them the nickname the Peach Twins. But their inseparability sparked rumours that they were romantically together (even though maybe, just maybe, Jeonghan was a little bit in love with Joshua).

“Do you want to be more hated by joining something as gay as being in a band?” Joshua never liked the rumours about them – he’d never been able to see Jeonghan as just a friend since then. It was surprising, how they matched each other easily, like they were soulmates…

Jeonghan laughed dryly, playing with a thumbtack on the corkboard in front of them. “Nothing’s gay about that. Girls go wild for band members.”

“Don’t really trust that Kwon guy, though. He’s always up to something weird.” Joshua looked around; of course, people were whispering.

“I thought you were going to say that he’s gay.”

“Isn’t he?” Joshua looked uncertainly at Jeonghan, who had a serious look on his face. “So are we joining or not?”

“This is a gig for us. The Peach Twins are coming for Sink Street.”

* * *

“Welcome to our first band meeting!” Soonyoung said, when Jeonghan and Joshua turned up at Wonwoo’s house one day after school, like they’d arranged.

“First thing we need to do is name our band.” Wonwoo said thoughtfully, adjusting his glasses.

“The Peach Brothers.” Jeonghan said without hesitating. Next to him, Joshua facepalmed; while Soonyoung had a surprised expression.

“Do we have to dye our hair peach?” Wonwoo asked, his expression stoic; like he wasn’t open towards the idea, but he wasn’t totally against it either.

Jeonghan whipped out a crumpled piece of paper from his back pocket, and started listing out fifteen reasons why the band should be named as what he’d suggested earlier, and yes, every band member (read: Jihoon and Wonwoo, not Soonyoung because he was only the band manager) would have to dye their hair peach for the idea to push through.

Jeonghan patted Jihoon’s head to illustrate his point. “Jihoonie here would look like an absolute little peach; he can pull it off. Wonwoo…we’ll have to try it out but it has to work.”

“What about me?” Soonyoung stood up. “Do I need peach hair, too?”

As the others got into a petty fight over hair colours, Jihoon quietly detached himself away from the group with Wonwoo’s laptop. Fragments of a song had formed in his head as he lay in bed last night; and Jihoon hoped that it would sound as good as it did in his head. His fellow band members were also songwriting novices as he was, but ever since he saw the handsome man in the denim jacket, he’d been hearing melodies in his little mind.

Using the basic four chords he knew, he fitted them into a progression that built into a simple song. He wasn’t sure if it would impress Seungcheol – a blush crept onto Jihoon’s face when he thought about the older guy – but he felt that this would be the first of many attempts.

He’d dove in heart first without thinking with this band idea; and Jihoon never did anything he started halfway. Okay, maybe starting a band just to impress someone else wasn’t very honourable – others would do it for the love of music – so maybe he felt a tiny bit guilty because his band members didn’t know the actual reason he kickstarted the whole idea. Jihoon wasn’t going to doubt himself – something this wrong could maybe turn out right. He had a gut feeling about it, which sent elephants dancing in his belly.

So he put on his borrowed headphones, and set to work.

* * *

Jihoon would see Seungcheol every day across the road from school, wearing his stylishly tattered denim jacket, waiting for nothing. Sometimes Seungcheol would wave at him as he entered the school compound with his bandmates, earning stares from just about everyone passing by – Jeonghan immediately connecting the dots, suspecting that there was a link between the two. It felt like Seungcheol was waiting for Jihoon to finish his song and invite him to the gig he’d been promised.

If Jihoon wasn’t composing; he’d daydream of the day when Seungcheol would stare him adoringly from the crowd – as Jihoon jammed on the stage with his band. There’d be a fog machine, and a spotlight would shine on the both of them, as everyone else and the world dissolved away, leaving only room for them and the lilting music Jihoon had written for his muse. He’d really wanted his daydream to come true, so Jihoon worked hard to finish his composition – which he mostly did in science class; almost getting his precious lyrics from being confiscated by deaf old Mr Kang, and risk them being read out to the whole class.

Later that day, when Jeonghan and Soonyoung were _still_ arguing over the name of their band, and Wonwoo and Joshua being neutral observers; Jihoon burst into their little practice room (read: Wonwoo’s dad’s den, who was a classical musician, so there was a grand piano, several violins and didgeridoo) with a huge grin on his face, and started distributing photocopies of his science notebook, where he’d painstakingly written his song; for everyone, save for Soonyoung.

Jeonghan took a look at the paper and glanced at Jihoon. “Is this it?” The younger boy nodded, still intimidated by the peach-haired senior. He wasn’t sure how the others would take it – maybe it wouldn’t be good enough, and he’d have to scratch the whole band idea, then Seungcheol would hate him forever for lying –

“The lyrics are cute.” Joshua grinned, already testing out the chords on his guitar. “Sounds promising, too.” His words eased Jihoon’s worries, and he smiled in relief. At least someone said something good about it, and Joshua’s judgement was valid since he was also a budding musician.

“Hey, Jihoon, any idea on the beats?” Wonwoo waved his copy, and Jihoon hurried over to help him. He wasn’t a student of rhythm, though he’d thought of his composition as a mellow song – not too fast, and not too slow, either.

Electronic beats were easy to produce, since none of them played the drums; and after a few taps on Wonwoo’s computer, Jihoon made a simple beat that he thought matched the song.

“Just play it by ear, I guess?” Jihoon said to the lanky boy, then went over to sling his own guitar over his shoulder.

“Let’s hear it, then.” Soonyoung was draped over the long couch in the corner, having nothing else to do apart from his history essay (which he won’t ever bother to do).

“Is this a slow song?” Jeonghan had a small frown on his face, which greatly unsettled Jihoon.

A clang of a chord from Joshua.  “I need to try it out, hang on…”

“Jihoon, you should show us how it sounds like. Like a guide version.” Jihoon blinked once at Wonwoo’s terminology, and the skinny boy quickly explained. “Like sing it for us, so we know how the song sounds like, then we can play it the way you want to.”

Jeonghan nodded, putting down his bass guitar, and took a seat by Joshua. “Let’s hear it.”

Wonwoo took care to sit the furthest from Soonyoung, who seemed to be the most interested in their nameless band’s first song, apart from Joshua. The spotlight was all on Jihoon; four pairs of eyes trained onto him. His heartbeat quickened, and his palms felt sweaty. He imagined that it was Seungcheol sitting in front of him, instead of his bandmates, and he calmed down a bit, settling into the mood that he’d actually written a whole song for someone.

The peach-haired songwriter took a deep breath, played the introductory strain, and opened his mouth to sing; his tone soft and melodic, almost fragile.

_[ I know I’m still a child now, I can’t catch up to you yet. Only a little while more…](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QZ2YA_2gcZ8) _

* * *

“Here you go.”

“Huh?” Seungcheol looked up from his phone, absolutely confused why this peach-haired kid wearing a school uniform was talking to him. “Oh, it’s you, Jihoonie.” The model’s face visibly lit up when he saw Jihoon, who was sporting a new hair colour (after coercion from Jeonghan, who’d said that it was a ‘present’ for him. Now three out of four band members had peach hair, except for Wonwoo, whose mother wouldn’t let him dye his dark raven hair; and the skinny boy was quick to suggest the band name as Wonwoo and the Peach Brothers).

Jihoon was holding out a purple flashdrive out for Seungcheol, who accepted it, twirling it between his fingers, inspecting the little device.

“What’s this for?”

“Oh, there’s a mp3 file inside. Of a song. By my band. Thought that maybe you’d like to listen to it.” Jihoon shoved his trembling hands into his pockets, though he can’t hide the shakiness in his voice; and his sentences were in fragments.

Seungcheol smiled, the little dimple in his cheek deepening. “Hmmm. Thanks. I’ll do that later.”

Jihoon nodded fervently, smiling in relief. This was a little too good to be true – Seungcheol, the man of his dreams (who also frequented his dreams, literally, especially of the wet variety) – was giving out positive responses to his advances. Or was this a prelude leading to a rejection?

Jihoon didn’t want to think about that, feeling confident about his first song, which his band had recorded late last night, after practicing it several times, only a few hours after listening to Jihoon’s live guide version. Despite clashing personalities, the band had a certain chemistry when making music: the first time they’d played together was a profound moment for Jihoon, like he’d found his calling. The Peach Twins – Jeonghan and Joshua - were amateur musicians, bringing their own unique sound to Jihoon’s song; while Wonwoo adapted easily with the rhythm, producing beats comfortably. For their first song, the result was something to be proud of – it sounded like one of those tracks that could be played on the radio in the dead of the night to lull people to sleep.

“It’s a bit rough around the edges.” Jihoon said. The recording wasn’t done professionally – if you heard closely, you could hear the sound of Soonyoung’s fidgeting, since the manager couldn’t hold the microphone still, and the siren of an ambulance wailing in the background.

“Okay.” Seungcheol dangled the purple flashdrive (Wonwoo’s, of course – Jihoon can’t even afford one) by its strap and gave the younger boy another smile.

“Will you be around here after school?” Jihoon tried to meet Seungcheol’s eyes, but settled on his nose, instead.

“Not sure. I’ve got a photoshoot soon.” Seungcheol checked the time on his phone; so he didn’t notice how Jihoon’s shoulders sagged slightly in disappointment.

“Do you want to be in a music video? We’re filming one.” Jihoon blurted out of nowhere. That idea certainly wasn’t sanctioned by the band; it was a spur of the moment idea, just another excuse to see Seungcheol more.

“Oh, that’s interesting. I’ll think about it.”

“We’re doing it this Saturday.”

“Maybe I’ll be free? Not sure.” The model reached out to fix Jihoon’s crooked shirt collar, which was trapped under his school tie – the boy had been rushing that morning, to meet Seungcheol before school. The little gesture made Jihoon feel warm all over, and Seungcheol’s fingers brushed against his neck. He could smell the cologne the older man was wearing: a sweet peach scent mingled with clean sweat – Jihoon contemplated naming his band the Peach Brothers as Jeonghan had suggested, just so he could have another connection with the model.

The moment ended as quickly as it happened – just a split second, making Jihoon crave for more.

The morning bell rang, a dull clanging sound from across the road. Seungcheol raised an eyebrow at the sound, and Jihoon knew that he had to leave. It made him feel small, still looking like a child in Seungcheol’s eyes.

“I’ll text you the details.” Jihoon mumbled, quickly taking his leave.

“See you, cutie.” Seungcheol called out, as Jihoon hurried across the road. “Your hair suits you, by the way!”

If peaches could blush, Jihoon would certainly look like one.

* * *

Saturday came, and Jihoon woke up feeling nervous. He’d told the rest of the band about his idea of filming a music video, and being headasses who did everything without thinking, they’d all agreed. Soonyoung was tasked to find an appropriate filming area as the rest of them practiced their new song, and he’d picked the docks, where there were rusty old ships and seagulls and hairy workers lugging things around from the freight ships that came in daily.  

“No one really goes here. And I kinda wanted to check out the place,” Was Soonyoung’s excuse when Jeonghan questioned him about his choice. At least it was a good day, Jihoon supposed, hoping that the seagulls circling above them in the blue skies above won’t drop a sudden guano bomb onto them as ‘special effects’.  

The nameless band were setting up their equipment, while Wonwoo was holding a last-minute crash course for Soonyoung, teaching the band manager how to use the high-tech video camera to film their music video. Jeonghan started mumbling about something that Jihoon couldn’t really hear, probably about Soonyoung’s choice of venue.

“I guess we get the sea vibes. It goes with the song.” Joshua tried to placate his best friend (and crush), rubbing his arm gently. In the distance, seagulls cawed, and the loud honk of a ship echoed throughout the docks.

Jeonghan looked at Joshua disbelievingly. “Romantic.” He drifted off to set up his bass guitar, hooking it up to the tiny amplifier he’d brought along.

Jihoon fingered his guitar nervously – he hadn’t told anyone about Seungcheol coming, though he’d already forwarded their location to the model. He exhaled deeply, and looked at his bandmates, who were minding their own business, and decided to focus on Joshua’s forehead as he relayed the news. “Guys, we have a guest today.”

“What?” Wonwoo half-whispered, unaware that Soonyoung was already filming his nostrils, which flared at Jihoon’s announcement.

“You know how some videos always have gorgeous models in them, so I invited someone.” Jihoon explained.

“You think I’m not pretty enough?” Jeonghan frowned, his hands on his hips; and Jihoon took half a step backward.

Of course, Joshua was the only one who could calm Jeonghan down. “Hannie, if you do that you’ll get wrinkles. Besides, you’ll be playing, so you can’t model at the same time.” The latter markedly relaxed, and started tuning his instrument, satisfied with Joshua’s reasoning.

Soonyoung skipped towards Jihoon with the camera, abandoning Wonwoo. “Is it Hot Model Guy Wearing Denim Jacket?”

“Yes.” Jihoon couldn’t keep the blush off his cheeks, wondering if Seungcheol would turn up in his denim jacket, and Soonyoung nudged him playfully.

 “Hey, what are you kids doing?” A random dockyard worker clad in dirty overalls, stomped up to them. Jihoon wasn’t scared of being caught or scolded by adults who wouldn’t understand the importance of music; but the worker’s young companion made him flinch.

Junhui, the bully from school.

“We’re filming a video!” Soonyoung replied cheerfully, gesturing at the video camera in his hand.

“You see, Junhui! Look at ‘em with their fancy guitars and stuff. Makin’ music to make people sing and dance. You don’t want to try that?” Junhui, who was trying to hide behind the burly worker, was suddenly dragged to face little Jihoon. The bully was wearing overalls that matched the worker’s, and his face and hair were dirty, like he’d been working at the yard since dawn. Now he didn’t look like a menacing schoolboy who did mean things to new kids at school; but rather like a child who’d matured too young, hardened by the difficult things in life. There was a flicker of sympathy in Jihoon’s head for Junhui, at least until the boy opened his mouth.

“No, it’s gay.” Junhui mumbled, trying to look away. 

“You’re gay, son.” Burly Man grabbed Junhui’s head roughly; a fierce look in his eyes. “Useless faggot.”  The man pushed the boy aside, then grinned toothily at the band. “Go play your songs, and make people happy. Least you’re better than that useless kid.” The man laughed as the pair left; Junhui flipping his middle finger off at them as he dragged his feet away, shadowing the man.

“Now, that’s new. Junhui’s gay.” Jeonghan laughed, as he cradled his guitar. “So Jihoon. Where’s our guest? Joshua and I gotta be somewhere…soon.”

Jihoon put his acoustic guitar aside and pulled his phone out from his pocket. “I told him around 11 o’clock and he said okay…” It was almost noon, and Jihoon started to worry. What if Seungcheol stood him up? He was probably busy doing model things, so why would he hang out with schoolboys anyway?

“The sun is frying my skin.” Wonwoo complained, shielding his eyes.

The band messed around for another fifteen minutes, practicing Jihoon’s song, as Soonyoung tried out his newly-acquired filming skills; until Jeonghan suddenly started packing up his bass, disconnecting the cord connecting it to his amplifier.

Jihoon didn’t dare to say anything, still anxious at Seungcheol’s unexplained lateness, but Joshua picked up everyone else’s concern. “Hannie…”

“We gotta go, Shua.” Jeonghan’s tone was dead serious, and the look in his eyes wasn’t playful at all. He zipped up his bag quickly, the sound ripping through the sudden tension in the air. One look at Jeonghan, and Joshua knew better than to say no.

“Sorry, guys.” Joshua was prepared to leave too, his own guitar already snug in its case.

“Hey, then what about the video?” Soonyoung said, pointing his camera down, forgetting that it was still recording.

“You could just edit us inside or something, you filmed a bit of us just now.” Jeonghan grinned, grabbing Joshua’s hand out of habit; shouldering his guitar bag. “See you guys.”

“Sorry!” Joshua waved at them, and the two of them hurried off, leaving the area hand-in-hand.

“See, they’re holding hands.” Soonyoung reached out for Wonwoo’s bony hand; and the latter swiftly retracted it.

“Don’t touch me.” The skinny boy tried to make himself busy by fiddling around with his laptop, though his ears turned red.  

“Must be nice to have someone to hold hands with.” Soonyoung sighed, throwing a subtle glance at Wonwoo, who suddenly cursed.

“My laptop is dying.” Wonwoo closed the device, sighing, since nothing else could be done.

“Didn’t you charge it?” Jihoon asked. Things were already changing for the worse – half of the band had left; and Seungcheol wasn’t here, like he’d promised.

“Apparently not. I didn’t bring my charger.”

“I can go back and get it for you!” Soonyoung volunteered with a huge smile on his face.

Jihoon sighed – his plans were already going to bust before they even started. “It’s okay. Just go home. Some other time, I guess.”

“’Kay. See ya.” It didn’t take long for Soonyoung and Wonwoo to pack up and leave, the perpetually excited band manager always trying to hold Wonwoo’s hand, just like how the Peach Twins had left. Jihoon didn’t want to think whatever monkey business they were up to: he just wanted to go home and wallow in bed over the loss of something he never had. Maybe this band thing was never going to work, anyway…

“Oh, that sucks.” Seungcheol drawled from out of nowhere; leaning against a lamppost. Today he looked impossibly good – even better, because he was wearing ripped jeans and a leather jacket.

“You’re here!” Jihoon almost rushed forward to meet the model, but he restrained himself.

“Sorry, I got lost.” Seungcheol approached the peach-haired schoolboy. “Of all places, the docks…are a bit scenic, I suppose.”

“Everyone left already.”

“Did you guys finish filming?” Seungcheol pulled out some gum from his pocket and popped it into his mouth.

Jihoon was fixated on the model’s mouth, watching him chew the gum, smelling a hint of minty freshness and some peach cologne. “We didn’t even start…”

“I thought that you were trying to get me alone somewhere, but I saw your bandmates leave just now. Hamster Boy and Glasses Boy. Weird pair.” Seungcheol teased, laughing. “But I feel bad. I guess I owe you.” The model said, easily picking up Jihoon’s guitar case. “Wanna get some ice-cream?”

Jihoon almost thought that Seungcheol was patronizing him – he did look a bit like a five-year-old child with his peach hair and small stature (everyone else around him was just freakishly tall in relation, Jihoon wasn’t tiny, not at all). “How about coffee?”

“Even better.” Seungcheol smiled. “Let’s go.”

Together, they left the stinky dockyard, heading towards the shops. Jihoon remembered the way Jeonghan and Joshua (Soonyoung and Wonwoo too, to some extent) had left the area holding hands. He stole a glance at Seungcheol’s hand, which looked large and manly and might just look nice wrapped around his dick, warm and slick – dirty thoughts, go away…maybe it would be nice to have someone’s hand to hold. Period.

Jihoon struggled to match his steps with Seungcheol’s, who strode purposefully, carrying Jihoon’s guitar, looking like a rockstar in his all-black ensemble. They entered a dinky coffee shop that had mismatched furniture and cracked linoleum tiles. The tables were stained with coffee, and a bored waitress approached them to give them the menu. Seungcheol asked for Jihoon’s preferences, before he ordered for the both of them and paid on the spot. Jihoon blushed a little, watching Seungcheol take charge of everything.

Despite the poor setting and the classic rock playing on the jukebox in the corner of the room, Jihoon felt fluttery, sitting alone in a tête-à-tête with the enigmatic model.

Maybe…was this a date?

“Your song was really good. I liked it.” Seungcheol opened the conversation, looking at the schoolboy with his intense dark eyes, a small smile curling on his lips.

“Thank you.” Jihoon smiled widely, his eyes turning into little half-moons. His heartbeat quickened – Seungcheol liked his song!

“You were singing, right? You sounded really cute. They should play your song on the radio.”

Jihoon didn’t know how to accept any more compliments, so he hung his head low, trying to hide the blush on his cheeks, still smiling.

The gum-popping waitress returned with their beverages, and no one said anything for a while, though Jihoon could feel Seungcheol’s gaze on him as they sipped their coffee.

“I’ve never met people in this town form a band.”

“Really?”

Seungcheol leaned back in his seat and scoffed. “No one special’s ever come from here. But you and I, we’re gonna change that.”

Jihoon choked on his drink. “U-us?”

The model reached over to rub Jihoon’s back to ease the boy’s coughing, but his determined expression never left his face.

“You and your band, with the music. Me, I’m gonna pave the way in fashion.”

They fell into an easy conversation about music and art and hopes and dreams; where Jihoon found out that Seungcheol was hell-bent on leaving this dead-end town. There were better opportunities in the big city, of course, if you knew where to find them. But money was tight, and Jihoon remembered the financial crisis that split his family apart, the reason he was here in this little town, moving in with his carefree father who wanted a break from high-strung city life.

Lee Jihoon had been a city boy, brought to Sink Street by a broken family, and he’d hated everything and everyone throughout. But now there was light in his darkness, in music, and in the devilishly handsome man sitting right across him, who was notably intrigued with the fact that Jihoon had written his own song.

Jihoon loved the way Seungcheol’s eyes sparkled with hope when he spoke of his ambitions; how his expression became more animated, almost child-like; the gestures he did with his hands as he spoke. The melodic lilt of his voice, his whole presence – Jihoon didn’t know how to describe it in ten thousand words, but he’d sing it in ten million songs. He could watch Seungcheol like this forever and never get bored; getting even more inspiration for new music, fragments of notes forming in his little head.

It was almost difficult to explain, how the mere presence of Seungcheol could bring so much light into his dull life, and create a burst of creativity. Jihoon itched to compose a song right there and then play it for his muse on the spot, but he didn’t want to interrupt the beautiful creature in front of him, telling him all sorts of things, wearing his heart on his leather sleeve.

It was dark when they walked back, the street lights casting shadows all over the deserted road. Jihoon felt fluttery all over, butterflies all over in his tummy – someone should start calling them _flutterflies_ \- after spending almost all day with Seungcheol. The model was more than he seemed, easily excited over the cutest things, like the puppies in the window of the pet shop. A person wasn’t just how they looked like, they were more beyond that. You had to take the time to find out, and Jihoon knew that Seungcheol was beautiful outside and inside. They had the same views on most things; and knowing that Seungcheol wanted to leave town strengthened his resolve that there was a world out there, more to explore, rather than the limited opportunities in this little town. Maybe they could go together, once Jihoon graduated from Sink Street, but that would take a couple more years.

At least now he had a set goal, too, thanks to Seungcheol – he’d been going through the motions with no absolute direction, but now he knew he had a chance in music. Maybe it was still in its infancy now, but he’d have to work hard, but there wouldn’t be a shortage of music – they were all in his head, needing to be heard by the world.

Seungcheol started whistling when they ran out of conversation, and Jihoon recognized the tune.

His song.

Make a wish, take a chance. There was a possibility for things to happen between them… He could just reach out and grab Seungcheol’s hand, which was brushing lightly by his own.

Suddenly a car raced past them, screeching to halt a few feet ahead. Instinctively, Seungcheol dragged Jihoon aside, closer to himself. “It’s dangerous, so walk on the inside.”

Jihoon tried to hide his smile as they approached the vehicle, which had stopped for no reason. Seungcheol looked ready to fight the driver, who’d almost ran over Jihoon earlier.

“Babe!” Seungcheol lit up when he recognized the driver who’d alighted from the souped-up vehicle. They embraced, and a funny feeling rose up Jihoon’s throat – being the third-wheel was the worst thing ever, but being Seungcheol’s third wheel? Physical pain wouldn’t hurt as much as this, and Jihoon would rather break all the bones in his body rather than witness this exchange with his own eyes.

Of course, a beautiful being would be snatched up by someone equally beautiful, and as tall as the streetlights. The tall man had bright eyes, and an easygoing smile, but he had to stoop down to look at Jihoon, who was about two heads shorter. 

“This is the guy in the band I told you about.” Seungcheol was telling his companion.

“He’s kinda…small. But cute. Love the hair. Your song’s good too.” Tall Guy smiled at Jihoon, his canine teeth jutting out adorably. Jihoon stared at the taller man’s toned chest, hidden under his turtleneck; he didn’t know where else to look.

“Jihoon, this is my boyfriend, Mingyu. He’s gonna help me get to the big city.”

“Oh. That’s nice.” Jihoon barely spared a glance at Mingyu; his heart sinking to his feet.

“So, are we gonna go to that party?” Mingyu wrapped an arm around Seungcheol’s waist, nuzzling his neck fondly.

“Can do. C’mon.” Seungcheol extricated himself from his boyfriend and pushed him towards the idling car. “I’ll see you around, Jihoon. Call me if you need me for videos, or anything.”

Jihoon watched the couple walk towards the car, hand-in-hand. Jihoon felt worthless – of course Seungcheol would hang out with beautiful people like Mingyu, not with schoolboys like Jihoon.

Maybe it would be too much of a miracle, after spending the whole day with Seungcheol. The car screeched away in a plume of smoke, leaving Jihoon and his guitar on that lonely road, under a flickering lamp. The night suddenly felt colder, so the peach-haired boy shoved his hands into his pockets, and started to walk home.

Oh, it would be nice to have someone to hold hands with.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After almost two (2) whole months, here's an update...  
> This is a HUGE chapter, and warnings are in the tags.

“Psst. Jihoon. Can I borrow your science homework?” Soonyoung leaned over, poking Jihoon’s side. The peach-haired boy was bent over his notebook, scribbling lyrics right before class.

“Ask Wonwoo. I’m busy.”

“He hasn’t done his.”

“Too bad.” That was new – Wonwoo not completing his assignments; but Jihoon was too distracted to ponder on that fact. He needed to focus now, otherwise his train of thought would derail, and he’d forget the lyrics he’d just thought of. 

“Aren’t you gonna ask why?” Soonyoung was relentless, invading his personal space; and Jihoon didn’t like it.

“No.”

“Wonwoo and I didn’t do our homework, well, because we were too busy sucking face.”

Jihoon made a face, and looked up from his notebook. “You didn’t have to tell me that.”

“So are you gonna let me copy off you?” Soonyoung grinned triumphantly; he’d grabbed Jihoon’s attention. There was a hint of redness on the skin hidden by Soonyoung’s collar – maybe he wasn’t lying, but Jihoon never bothered to do his science homework anyway; spending all of his time writing songs, so he shook his head and continued his writing lyrics.

He hadn’t seen Seungcheol since that night, when the model had zoomed away into the darkness with his boyfriend. He’d gone straight to Joshua’s place right after, where he’d spun out a whole song with the help of the older boy. That was the start of his creative burst – his head exploded with so many feelings, so many songs to write. Every day at band practice, they’d always have a new song to rehearse. Their music was improving; but there was a certain theme revolving around their songs: the subtle feelings of pining over someone way too out of his league.

Seungcheol had tried messaging him – a simple hello or how do you do, but Jihoon never read his messages. Most days, he’d be absent from his usual spot across Sink Street Academy, and Jihoon suspected that Seungcheol would probably be off doing his model thing, or being around Mingyu. 

Sometimes he’d be there, craning his neck, looking for Jihoon among the after-school crowd when the bell rang at three pm, and Jihoon would take advantage of his small stature and hide behind Wonwoo to escape from interacting with Seungcheol. It was petty, he knew, but he couldn’t face the model.

He missed that day he’d spent with Seungcheol – it would be wishful thinking to expect more moments like that, now that he knew that the model was taken. He didn’t want to talk to the person he was writing so many songs about. Maybe was time to keep things strictly professional between them, whatever that meant between them.

But Jihoon wasn’t going to go back on his promise with Seungcheol. He’d invited the model to a gig by his band; and for a gig, his band needed songs. No one explicitly knew who fuelled the lyrics in Jihoon’s songs, which were mostly mellow, and suited his high tone. Jeonghan once pointed out that the tempo of their songs were mostly on the slower side, but Jihoon pointedly ignored him, ordering another round of practicing their songs. No one dared to question Jihoon’s songs, since he was the one writing content for the band; so they left it at that.

It was just another day after school, and Jihoon weaved between the crowds leaving the school compound on his own. Wonwoo was off doing ‘things’ with Soonyoung, so there was no one to cover him. The peach-haired boy figured that if he kept his head down, he wouldn’t see Seungcheol, but he suddenly bumped into a person wearing a denim jacket, clouded by the subtle scent of peach.

“Hey, cutie.”

Of course, it was none other than Seungcheol, the muse for his music, and the last person he wanted to talk to.

“Can I help you?” Jihoon mumbled, keeping his gaze down at his brown shoes, conscious that everyone else was watching their exchange happening right outside the gates of Sink Street Academy.

“Coffee?”

“I have homework.”

“Just for a while. Please?” Seungcheol held Jihoon’s chin up so that their eyes met, and Jihoon practically melted under that gaze, nodding feebly.

They left Sink Street, heading to the park, and Seungcheol quickly dropped into a café to buy coffee for the both of them. Jihoon contemplated about running away, to avoid Seungcheol, as the older man bought the drinks he’d promised inside the cosy shop; but his feet stayed rooted to the ground.

“Here.” Seungcheol handed a paper cup towards Jihoon, once they’d settled on a bench under a tree. It was cold outside, and Jihoon wished he had a warmer coat apart from his school blazer.

Jihoon accepted the drink wordlessly, letting it warm his cold fingers. The rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee alerted his senses, and he took a sip. It was his favourite blend – Seungcheol had remembered his exact order from their ‘date’ the other day. Jihoon tried to dismiss the thought, trying to convince himself that Seungcheol was the kind of guy who remembered everyone’s coffee orders.

They sat on a bench in silence, a distinct gap between them. Apart from the hobo napping by the nearby fountain, the place was practically deserted.

“I missed you, these days.” Seungcheol said, glancing at the peach-haired boy beside him.

Jihoon didn’t reply, staring at the coffee cup in his hands instead. Didn’t Seungcheol have a model-type boyfriend? What was he doing, going around saying he missed worthless little schoolboys like Jihoon?

There was an invisible tension in the air, important words unspoken between them. Seungcheol could feel the awkwardness radiating from the boy sitting next to him – Jihoon hadn’t been avoiding him for nothing, lately; there was definitely something – so he wanted to fix it, to diffuse the icy phase that they were going through.

Silence, again. This time, every awkward second that ticked past made Jihoon even more uncomfortable; when Seungcheol started humming Jihoon’s song as he leisurely drank his coffee.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of your song.”

The model discarded his empty coffee cup in the trashcan by the bench; while Jihoon sat there frozen, his thoughts running wild. The coffee in the boy’s hands were getting cold, and the weather was unforgiving, as everyone else hurried indoors. They were the only ones mad enough to sit outside, and Seungcheol instinctively inched closer towards Jihoon when he saw that the boy was shivering.

“It’s refreshing. Like the melody has a cheery vibe; hopeful for the future. It calms me when I’m on edge, and I listen to it before I sleep.”

Jihoon flinched.

“I miss being younger, the innocence of childhood. I remember being a kid who couldn’t wait to grow up…but now, the world is a difficult place. Things aren’t as simple as they used to be.”

Jihoon grasped his cup tighter, affected by Seungcheol’s words. That was exactly how he felt, relayed by the lyrics in his song. He wanted to grow up, be an adult – the only way he thought Seungcheol might just fall for him…

“But the lyrics are kinda sad… is there anyone making you sad?” Seungcheol tilted his head, getting into Jihoon’s field of view. The boy looked away, the tips of his ears turning redder than it already was.

“I guess it’s okay if you don’t want to tell me.” Seungcheol smiled sadly. “Just tell me your feelings in your songs.”

Jihoon had written too many songs about the model that could fill a whole album. If only Seungcheol knew…

“Sometimes I just want to know what you’re thinking in that cute little peach head of yours…”

_You. Nothing but you._

Seungcheol moved even closer towards Jihoon, their knees knocking against each other. The boy had barely even said a word, so Seungcheol knew that there was a lot on his mind. He gazed at Jihoon, scrutinizing the boy’s features – the soft peach hair that complemented his pale, pale skin; the delicate curve of his jaw, hinting the subtle change from boy to man; and his little lips, which were slightly trembling from the cold weather, and Seungcheol knew exactly how to warm them up.

To Seungcheol, Jihoon was so, so intriguing – just from that one song; he felt like there was someone who spoke of his own insecurities in those wistful words Jihoon sang. It made him want to hold and protect Jihoon from the harshness of the world. He’d never felt an emotional connection with anyone; not even with his so-called boyfriend Mingyu, who only called him up whenever he wanted to have some fun.

The boy sitting beside him deserved all the happiness in the world, to smile and to laugh, and to create as much music as he wanted to. There was something between them that clicked, right from the moment Jihoon had said hello to him that one particular morning. The boy had balls, asking for his number directly; and that gave Seungcheol the impression that Jihoon wasn’t scared to chase after his dreams, to get that he wanted.

Now it was Seungcheol’s turn, to chase after his own.

Seungcheol had always been impulsive; overwhelmed by his own thoughts and feelings, he gently tilted Jihoon’s face so that they faced each other. The boy kept his eyes down, still contemplative; and Seungcheol cupped Jihoon’s chin, leaned forward and kissed him.

Jihoon’s first kiss.

The peach-haired boy was suddenly hyperaware of his surroundings – the fading warmth of the spilled coffee in his lap; but especially the heat radiating from Seungcheol’s body pressed up against him, Seungcheol’s long eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks, his lips so soft and warm and gentle over his own, tasting like coffee; drawing up a fluttery feeling deep from Jihoon’s gut. He didn’t know what to do, just sitting there, letting the Seungcheol kiss him, trying to burn the memory of the moment into the contours of his brain.

Seungcheol pulled away quickly after, sensing Jihoon’s unresponsiveness – maybe he was doing the wrong thing. He searched the boy’s confused eyes, grasping his shoulders, afraid to let go. He needed to show Jihoon what he felt, but he was scared that he might just get the wrong message across.

Seungcheol had a boyfriend, and it wasn’t Jihoon. It was wrong – kissing someone else, that was cheating – but how could something so wrong feel so right? There had been something, like a spark; when their lips touched for the first time, coming as a pleasant surprise towards Seungcheol: maybe there was more towards the affection he thought he’d felt towards this amazing boy sitting across from him. He didn’t regret kissing Jihoon, so had it been right all along?

“Why?” Jihoon whispered, getting himself lost in Seungcheol’s intense gaze.

“Because I want to. And I’d do it again, if you let me.” Seungcheol’s voice was husky.

“Please.”

Seungcheol took Jihoon into his arms naturally, like he belonged there. Jihoon eased himself into Seungcheol’s kiss, starting off slow and gentle like the first time. Nothing else in the world mattered between them in that moment, as their kisses became more urgent and heated and passionate, unafraid to explore uncharted territories, getting comfortable with the new sensation.

Trying to convey too many words unspoken between them – _I adore you; too much, it makes me dizzy._

Jihoon loved the thrilling excitement of kissing somebody that you cared about for the first time, as Seungcheol pulled Jihoon closer, wrapping his strong arms around the boy’s small frame.

Jihoon smiled behind Seungcheol’s lips – this was absolutely real, not just some wet dream on his rickety bed; and every touch sent his body into tingles. He loved the intimacy, like it was a little secret shared between them and no one else, holding each onto other so tightly as if the moment they created together might just dissipate. They both knew this wouldn’t last forever, to kiss and be kissed with the same heated passion.

Maybe having someone to hold hands with was nice, but having someone to kiss was nicer.

* * *

Jihoon sat on the roof of his house; his guitar in his arms, and his ~~science~~ lyric book open in front of him. The page was empty, and his fingers were frozen. It wasn’t because of the coldness of the night – that barely bothered him; but Jihoon couldn’t find it in himself to pluck out a chord, and write out his feelings in song.

Seungcheol had kissed him (once more before they parted ways); and now he was in a creative block, unable to move on from that memory. He’d skipped band practice without informing his friends; and scrambled up to the rooftop for some alone time and privacy, thinking that he could write another song. But that urgency faded away with the passing minutes, as he dreamed more of being in Seungcheol’s arms, melting in his warm kiss.

But there was a little tug of worry in his heart – how things suddenly turned even more complicated. Things that suddenly became hazy, questions that formed after their intimate moment. What were they? What about Mingyu? And if he couldn’t write songs now, what would happen to his dream?

“Thought you’d be here.” Jeonghan appeared at Jihoon’s bedroom window, followed by Joshua and Wonwoo and Soonyoung. Jihoon almost dropped his guitar in surprise at the sudden appearance of his bandmates, not expecting them to deploy a search party for him.

“The front door was unlocked, so we let ourselves in.” Soonyoung grinned, climbing onto the roof to sit next to Jihoon. Wonwoo followed suit, while Jeonghan and Joshua hung back by the windowsill – too many boys sitting on a roof would be dangerous.

“Another song, Jihoon?” Joshua asked, as Jeonghan pulled out some bubblegum from his pocket.

“Don’t we have enough?” Wonwoo mumbled, taking Jihoon’s guitar from its owner, plucking a random chord that sounded slightly flat.

“Not tonight.” Jihoon shut his lyric book. Now that his bandmates were here, he wouldn’t be able to focus, but he was already distracted by a certain Choi, so it didn’t matter.

No one said anything for a while, the only sounds in the night being a car alarm in the distance, and the snapping of Jeonghan’s gum. It was a shadowy night; the moon playing hide-and-seek behind the dark clouds in the sky.

“Sorry I skipped out on band practice without telling you guys.” Jihoon muttered. He didn’t know why his friends were here, keeping him company, when they all knew that Jihoon was untouchable when he was off writing songs.

“Nah, we weren’t really practicing anyway.” Jeonghan said.  “Shua and I have midterms next week. Actually, we all do.”

“Screw exams.” Soonyoung picked at a dandelion growing in the gutter.

“We’re graduating soon, so, we need good grades because everyone else says so.” Joshua explained, reaching out for the guitar in Wonwoo’s bony hands. “At least you kids have another year to bum off.”

“Screw exams.” Soonyoung repeated, blowing on the dandelion he’d picked, its little seeds floating away in the gentle night breeze.

“Are we still gonna film our music video?” Wonwoo questioned.

Soonyoung brightened up, discarding the stem of the dandelion he’d blew on. “Ooh, then we need to contact Mr Hot Model Guy in Denim Jacket!”

“Not at the docks, though. That place is disgusting.” Jeonghan scrunched up his nose.

“I’ll try to sort things out, then.” Soonyoung grinned, brighter than the stars. “After midterms.” The self-appointed band manager added as an afterthought, and Joshua visibly relaxed – the senior did care about graduating, unlike the rest of them.

Joshua started strumming a calming tune – Jihoon recognized it as Maroon 5 – setting a relaxing mood in the atmosphere. The five of them sat there, easing into comfortable silence. Jihoon felt a rare sense of togetherness – a ragtag band of boys, brought together by music. Their band was still in its infancy, though they already had enough material for a whole album. They weren’t established; they were still amateurs – no gigs under their belts, since there were no gigs in town to play for.

Jihoon wasn’t sure if this whole band idea was going to work out properly – Jeonghan and Joshua seemed content with going to the community college in town, settling for simple jobs; while Wonwoo would inevitably inherit whatever his rich parents gave him – the family business, their mansions and whatnot. Soonyoung? Jihoon couldn’t imagine Soonyoung doing anything proper with his life; he’d probably end up being a librarian at the town library or something, singing and dancing as he shelved dusty old books. Or he’d probably expand Edward Kwon’s Business Solutions, and earn proper money from it, instead of a pack of Skittles every week (Jihoon had become accustomed to ‘pay’ Soonyoung with Skittles since the first day).

He had a feeling that the band was going to be temporary, but he wished that it could be forever.

But it was better to bask in the happiness of the present, rather than worrying about the unknown future; so Jihoon was going to make as much music as he could with these guys he called his bandmates. He’d never imagined that he’d gain a few more friends (though sometimes he felt like the fifth wheel in their little group) and that made him happy.

“How do you get so much inspiration for our songs, Jihoon?” Joshua’s voice broke into Jihoon’s thoughts.

The boy froze at the sudden question, and there was an anticipation in the air. Everyone else knew, but they wanted to hear it from Jihoon himself.

He’d been writing about nothing but Seungcheol. Seungcheol, the beautiful man who plagued his thoughts, day in and day out; taking up every small moment with his adorable gummy smile. Just the thought of the model made Jihoon warm all over, a blush creeping into his cheeks – he was glad of the lowlight, otherwise Soonyoung would tease him to no end.

But it seemed like Soonyoung had ESP or something, because he spilled the beans: “Jihoon likes Mr Hot Model Guy in Denim Jacket; that’s where he gets his inspirations from!”

Jeonghan laughed, almost choking on his gum. “We kinda already knew that. How’d you know him anyway?”

“Jihoon just went up to him and talked to the guy.” Soonyoung was unstoppable. Who knew what else the self-appointed band manager knows, since Jihoon had been crushing on Seungcheol in secret (at least that was what he thought).

“That simple?” Wonwoo glanced at the blushing boy sitting next to him.

“Shua thought that he was pushing drugs.” Jeonghan said with a straight face, teasing his (boy)friend in an accusatory tone.

“I did not!”

Jeonghan grinned fondly at Joshua; tickled by his angry face – which was just about as menacing as a tiny baby bunny; then turned back to Jihoon. “He does have a pretty face, though. Good for him. And good for you too, Jihoon.”

“What’s his name, though?” Wonwoo asked curiously; barely interested, but it would be nice to know; since they’d been referring to the model as Mr Hot Guy in Denim Jacket, which was a mouthful.

“Seungcheol.” Jihoon breathed out the name lightly, loving the way it sounded on his tongue.

Wonwoo let out a low whistle. “So all our songs are about him?”

Jihoon could only nod, since there was no use denying it anymore. Jeonghan clapped his hands slowly, nodding his head, as if acknowledging the fact.

So his bandmates weren’t mad at him for making Seungcheol his muse, and Jihoon felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Coming clean was a relief – now he could write a million more songs about Seungcheol and not feel guilty; this time, he felt like screaming to the world that he, Lee Jihoon, a mere schoolboy with dyed peach hair; was in love with Seungcheol.

Fuuuuuuuuuuuck.

“Must be nice to have someone to write songs about.”

Jihoon leaned back, lying on the roof, looking at the dark skies above, smiling to himself, only one person on his mind. “Yeah.”

* * *

Science class, last period. Deaf old Mr Kang was still droning on and on about particles or something equally scientific, oblivious to the fact that school was going to end in two seconds. Jihoon, of course, was minding his own business, barely paying attention to the lesson, lamenting the fact that he couldn’t figure out an appropriate progression for the hook of his current composition. He wished that he could grab his guitar that was sitting at the back of the classroom to test out the new melody. Beside Jihoon, Soonyoung was already restless, tapping his foot in a rapid staccato beat, which was suddenly halted by the prolonged clang of a bell, signifying the end of a school day.

Jihoon shoved his ~~lyric~~ science book into his bag, and hurried to the back of the room to retrieve his instrument, but he got caught in the midst of students rushing in the opposite direction trying to escape the dreary classroom. He jostled his way through, seeing his guitar case leaning against the art cabinet, beckoning him.

It happened too quickly – Jihoon was about to reach his precious guitar – but a sudden flash of movement, and it was gone. A slim figure shouldered Jihoon’s guitar case and bolted out of the room, pushing away people who got in his way. There could only be one person in Sink Street Academy who would dare to bother Jihoon.

Junhui.

His instincts kicked in, and Jihoon followed the runaway bully through the hallways, past the school gates, and out onto Sink Street. Jihoon was almost positive that Junhui was going to outrun him and hold his guitar hostage (or worse, sell it) when the bully suddenly stopped in his tracks, hindered by a tall, handsome man wearing a stylish leather jacket.

“Stop right there.” Seungcheol’s voice was low, threatening; his expression thunderous.

“Piss off.” Junhui tried to shove the older man aside, but Seungcheol stood his ground. Jihoon finally caught up with them, panting after his sprint.

“Give me back my guitar.” Jihoon panted, bending over, trying to catch his breath. Junhui was obviously flustered with Seungcheol’s presence, glancing at Jihoon, then Seungcheol, then back at Jihoon; clutching the strap of Jihoon’s guitar case tighter.

“You heard him.” Seungcheol crossed his arms over his chest.

Junhui let out a bitter laugh, turning to Jihoon. “Oi, Peach Head. This your sugar daddy?”

Jihoon didn’t answer, still flushed from the chase (or did he turn redder from Junhui’s remark?).

“Just give it back to him. I don’t want any trouble.” Seungcheol said.

Junhui looked torn between bothering Jihoon further, but it looked like Seungcheol was going to throw him into the sinkhole in the middle of the street. Why was this random guy standing up for the cute new kid?

“Fine. Take this piece of crap, I don’t need it anyway. Sugar baby.” Junhui tossed the guitar case to the ground – Jihoon nearly had a heart attack when he did that – glanced briefly at the peach-haired boy, then skulked off.

Seungcheol was already picking Jihoon’s guitar case up, dusting it. “What was that about?”

“He’s got a problem, I don’t know what. Thanks, I guess.”

“If that guy bothers you again, tell me.” The scowl on Seungcheol’s face deepened as he watched Junhui disappear around the corner.

“Nah, I can handle it.” Jihoon shrugged, and held his hands out for his guitar case, but Seungcheol was already carrying it.

“C’mon, let’s take a walk.” Seungcheol said gruffly, placing a hand on the small of Jihoon’s back; leading him away from Sink Street.

Of course, they ended up at the same park where they’d first kissed (had it really been two days ago?), sitting on a bench, a considerable distance from each other. It was like they were simply acquaintances, waiting for the other to close the gap. But Jihoon could feel the fury from Seungcheol – the man was still angry about Junhui earlier, so the boy figured that Seungcheol needed some space to cool off.

“You okay?” Jihoon asked gently.

“I’m still mad at that kid.” Seungcheol’s response was cold, piercing. He toyed with the strap of Jihoon’s guitar case, eyebrows furrowed.

“Don’t worry too much about that.” Jihoon glanced at Seungcheol, taking his guitar case from the older man. “It’s nothing.”

“I can’t believe he threw your guitar to the ground! Doesn’t he know that you can make magic with it?”

“He thinks that’s gay.” Jihoon said in a tiny voice, looking at his feet.

Seungcheol cracked a small smile. “Guy’s too bitter, he doesn’t know how to be happy.”

The peach-haired boy cradled his guitar case, looking at Seungcheol, his interest piqued. Seungcheol seemed to know a lot about people; his thoughts were deeper than one would expect from a model – he was more than just a pretty face.

“To be gay is to be happy – there’s a reason why they’re synonyms.” The model said lightly, staring in the distance, looking almost philosophical.  

That didn’t quite make sense to Jihoon – it was even a bit funny, in a way – so the boy didn’t say anything else. The way Junhui kept spitting out that word – _gay_ – like it was an insult; but there was nothing wrong with being gay. Being gay made people happy; that was what they were entitled to. People deserved to be happy. But taking away that happiness from them would be uncalled for.

Seungcheol sighed heavily, leaning back on the bench. “Can you play me a song?”

Jihoon remembered the half-finished song he’d been struggling to write earlier in class. The melody was still fresh in his mind – now was the chance to try it out.

“Mind if I try something new?”

“I’d love that.” Seungcheol’s lips curled into a smile, anticipating.

Jihoon nervously tuned his guitar (he didn’t actually have to; it was already in perfect pitch); cleared his throat, and started to play the correct chords.

[I’ll sing to you, U hoo.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SEs7ON2Pzqo)

Just a few words – one verse – then Jihoon stopped, barely able to meet Seungcheol’s eyes: he’d just realised that this was the first time he’d sung in front of his muse; the man who fuelled the creation of his music.

Seungcheol was rendered speechless by Jihoon’s short verse – the sensation had been completely different than simply listening to a recorded track. How Jihoon’s fingers nimbly struck out beautiful chords from his precious old guitar; the clarity of his soft voice as he sang out the words he’d written on his own – this moved Seungcheol so profoundly; he was almost reduced to tears.

This boy sitting by him was a miracle, and Seungcheol felt overwhelmed; in awe just by Jihoon’s small performance that only lasted a few seconds. A small smile crept onto his lips as he gazed at Jihoon. “You’re incredible.”

Jihoon’s heart soared hearing Seungcheol’s words – the happiness in the Seungcheol’s eyes was unmistakable. He suddenly remembered what Junhui’s father (at least, Jihoon thought it was) had said to him and the rest of the band down at the docks.

_Go play your songs, and make people happy…_

There was at least one other person on the entire planet who found happiness in his music, and that was Seungcheol.

The atmosphere was palpable with anticipation; both of them expecting a teeny bit more from each other – Jihoon dropped his gaze down to Seungcheol’s highly kissable lips…

“Oh, what a coincidence to run into you on this fine evening!” Soonyoung suddenly appeared out of nowhere, with a huge fake grin on his face, and Wonwoo in tow.

Jihoon sprang apart from Seungcheol, almost dropping his guitar; shocked to see his classmates in the park. Seungcheol seemed unfazed, though, and smiled at the two schoolboys.

“Pleasure to meet you properly, Mr Hot Model Guy in Denim Jacket – I mean Leather Jacket – Jihoon’s always talking about you.”

Seungcheol raised an interested eyebrow at Soonyoung’s statement, but he kept smiling. “My name’s Seungcheol.” 

“I’m Edward Kwon, band manager. And this is Jeon Wonwoo, master of rhythmic beats and horrible puns, and the Bella to my Edward.”

No one appreciated the Twilight reference, and a crow squawked as it flew above them, filling in the momentary silence.

“Do you have to say it that way.” Wonwoo muttered, the back of his neck turning red.

“Anyway. No time to explain. You gotta come with us.” Soonyoung dragged both Jihoon and Seungcheol up to their feet, pulling them away from the park.

* * *

Soonyoung worked in incredibly mysterious ways – he’d managed to grab a recording session for the band at a music studio in the next town at the last minute, and no one knew how he did it.

He told the band excitedly on the train ride over – Seungcheol still wondering why he needed to be there, but now he’d met Jihoon’s band, and they seemed to accept him into their little circle. He was a bit apprehensive to approach Jeonghan and Joshua, especially when the former gave him a judgemental once-over at first. The bassist simply grinned at Jihoon and gave him a thumbs up in approval.

Seungcheol eased into the band’s company, smiling at their petty bickering over snacks. He’d been intrigued when Jeonghan told him that Jihoon had a whole repertoire of songs written, and he’d begged the boy for them with his puppy dog face, which made Jihoon turn red and refused to talk to him for the remainder of the journey.

It was late evening when they finally reached the studio, after getting lost several times, thanks to Soonyoung. They stood in front of a run-down building, the paint on its outer walls peeling, and tiny plants growing out of its cracks. It seemed to be an unlikely place for a music studio, but Soonyoung was certain of the address (Wonwoo had double-checked, too).

“Is this it?” Jeonghan questioned sceptically, ready to grab Joshua’s hand and run at any second.

Soonyoung shrugged and led their little group into the building. Jihoon and Seungcheol were the last ones to enter, and Jihoon could feel Seungcheol’s protective closeness right behind him. They all piled into a tiny lift to the fourth floor (where Jihoon found himself ~~intimately~~ awkwardly pressed up against Seungcheol) that took forever to ascend.

Once the lift doors opened, they were greeted with the strong smell of coffee beans, finding themselves in a room decorated in a retro style. The recording area seemed technologically advanced, with soundproofing and all, which was a surprising contrast towards the outer look of the building.

A guy bundled up in a thick hoodie and jeans, hip-hop style, was sitting at the soundboard. He took of his headphones (name brand, Jihoon thought) and swivelled around in his office chair to meet the band. “Edward Kwon?”

Jeonghan muffled a titter, while Wonwoo wished that he could disappear into the funky carpeting, as Soonyoung stepped up ahead and shook the guy’s hand. Soonyoung was really trying to make that alias work, maybe he thought that it would be good for business…

“This is the band I’m managing!” Soonyoung shook the man’s hand firmly, and started to introduce the band members one by one, but he stopped short at Seungcheol, trying to think of a proper introduction for him.

“Mr Hot Model Guy is a model, but he’s not in the band. He’s more like the band’s first fan.” Soonyoung jumbled up his words, as Hoodie Dude simply nodded. “Oh, and the band still doesn’t have a name yet, though it’s been weeks, but they can’t decide.”

“That’s fine, as long as the music is good. But you kids better think of one fast. Easier to market.”

“Wonwoo and the Peach Brothers.” The skinny boy interjected quietly, and everyone looked at him.

“The Peach Band, if you dyed your hair peach, too.” Hoodie Dude quipped, grinning, thinking that it was all a gimmick that two thirds of the bands had peach hair. “Anyway, I’m Bumzu, and I produce music.”

“Yeah, he’s really cool.” Soonyoung added unnecessarily, only to be pointedly ignored by everyone.

“I listened to that song of yours – _When I Grow Up_?” Bumzu raised an eyebrow, as if to confirm; and Jihoon nodded. Behind him, Seungcheol was grinning widely, proudly; knowing that his favourite lullaby was going to get recognition.

“That song’s real mellow, pleasing to the ear. The kind of music people wanna hear today. Lyrics are amazing, really – Edward told me you wrote that song yourselves?”

“Jihoon wrote it.” Joshua said, and Jeonghan gently nudged the smaller boy.

“You have potential, Jihoon.” Bumzu said, crossing his arms over his chest, looking at the peach-haired songwriter. Jihoon shook his head, trying to deny that fact.

 “Among the four of us, I think you’ll be the one who’ll actually make it big in music.” Jeonghan said, with a sincere tone; his usual cynical tone gone. Jihoon could feel Seungcheol’s hand resting on his shoulder as Jeonghan said that, as if he shared the same sentiments.

“Yeah, we’re all just riding off your talent.” Wonwoo added, and Joshua nodded in agreement, a bashful smile on his face.

Jihoon turned red; he didn’t know how to accept compliments. “Guys, we’re a band. So we’re all in this together.”

“Did you just quote High School Musical?” Soonyoung asked bluntly, erasing the pleasant mood.

“Agh, you ruined the moment.” Jeonghan sighed, shaking his head, as everyone else laughed in good nature.

Jihoon had never felt more awkward – times like this made him cringe, made his words lose all meaning. “Sorry, I’m only good at expressing myself in song…”

“Yep. That’s right. When you sing, you’ve got this certain level of emotion in your voice that makes my toes curl when I listen to it. And I mean that in the best way; because it’s impressive for someone your age…that’s why I’m excited to work with you and your band.”

Bumzu led the band to the soundboard, and let the members put their guitars aside. “So we’re gonna record all your songs, put a demo together, and see where that takes you.”

“Simple, right?” Soonyoung was practically bouncing with excitement, but he stopped when he saw that the band weren’t as excited as he was. “Why aren’t you guys hyped up?”

“Thanks for this opportunity.” Joshua bowed politely at Bumzu. Jeonghan started unpacking his bass, and the rest of the band followed suit, preparing for their first-ever recording session.

“You guys are weird.” Soonyoung shook his head – he’d been expecting more cheer from them. Seungcheol seemed out of place as the band busied themselves around the tiny room with their instruments and whatnot, but the band manager already had something planned for him.

“Mr Hot Model Guy, I have something for you to do.” Soonyoung brandished his (Wonwoo’s) video camera out of his backpack; an excited smile painting his mochi face. “We’re gonna shoot a video!”

“Whoa.” Jihoon gasped in the midst of tuning his guitar. Everyone else seemed to know about this news already, as they went about their business nonchalantly. Jihoon thought that they’d abandoned that idea long ago, when the band showed such disinterest down at the docks. But now, things were going really well for them: they’re about to record a demo, and they were getting a music video, too, starring one of the most beautiful humans ever to grace the earth.

A fluttery feeling rose up in his tummy – things were now all systems go. He’d never imagined doing important musical things like this: did they really have the potential to enter the music industry? Maybe the peach hair would really be a good selling point…

“I already have a concept for the video. It’ll be one of those really artsy videos that won’t even show the band, haha. All you need to do is look gorgeous, and man, that leather jacket really suits you.” Soonyoung explained to an elated Seungcheol. Even the model was surprised at the turn of events; and he shot a happy smile towards Jihoon. That brief grin made Jihoon’s heart flutter, a different kind of flutter than the excitement of actually pursuing music, so difficult to explain, but only Seungcheol could make Jihoon’s heart flutter that way.

“Let’s go, Mr Hot Model Guy!” Soonyoung motioned to the exit with a grand gesture, punching the button to summon the elevator.

“At least, call him by his name, Soonyoung.” Jihoon mutters as Soonyoung and Seungcheol enter the tiny lift that would take them away. Seungcheol managed to wave and shoot another smile at him – oh, that gorgeous smile – before he disappeared as the elevator doors shut.   

Jeonghan approached Jihoon, patting his shoulder. “Don’t worry, Jihoon. They’re just gonna film a music video…Seungcheol’s a huge fan on that song, right? Must be an honour.”

Bumzu clapped his hands, trying to get everyone’s attention. “Time to get you kids in the booth. Wonwoo, let’s lay down some beats. Should be real simple stuff for you.” The producer turned to the rest of the band after showing Wonwoo where to hook up his laptop to the system. “Jeonghan and Joshua, you guys can chill for a while, but make sure your guitars are tuned. And Jihoon, warm your throat up, because it’s going to be a long session.”

* * *

Soonyoung and Seungcheol returned to the studio a few hours later, just to find everyone except for Jihoon asleep in various states in the tiny room. The boy had chunky headphones on, sitting at the soundboard; a little smile on his face as he listened to the playback of the song that the band had managed to record. He took them off when he saw Seungcheol and Soonyoung enter, the new arrivals glancing around at everyone’s sleeping forms.

“Did you guys finish filming?” Jihoon asked quietly.

“Yes, and we brought back food.” Seungcheol whispered, holding up bags of fast food. The two of them approached Jihoon quietly, tiptoeing; then settled down in chairs around the soundboard near the boy. Jihoon wanted to see the finished product of the music video, and whichever way Soonyoung had directed and filmed it, he was sure that Seungcheol did an amazing job, and looked amazing while at it. Even now, he looked dashing in his white T-shirt – he’d taken off his leather jacket, since it was warm indoors – although it was way after midnight.  

“More for us, then.” Soonyoung grinned, tearing a bag open, and the smell of hamburgers filled the room. Nearby, Wonwoo’s nose twitched in his sleep, as the three boys tucked into their midnight meal.

“Cola or soda, Jihoonie?” Seungcheol asked, pulling out a couple of drinks from the cup holder.

“Cola, thanks.” Jihoon nodded, immediately taking a sip from the cold beverage Seungcheol handed over. He loved the smooth taste of the drink, and the carbonation that popped in his mouth made him feel awake.

“He needs to have real cola,” Soonyoung interjects, between mouthfuls of burger. “He knows if you give him off-brand cola.”

Jihoon almost choked on his drink at Soonyoung’s sudden revelation. “I don’t mind, really.”

“You’re just saying that because Mr Hot Model Guy is here.” The band manager turned to Seungcheol, who was smiling fondly at Jihoon like he found that fact adorable. “One time the store ran out of cola so I got Jihoon some Pepsi, because y’know, it’s almost the same thing right? He kicked me and refused to drink it so Wonwoo and I had to finish it up.”

Jihoon turned red at Soonyoung’s anecdote - of course, that kid would just tell the honest truth to everyone, so there was no use denying it. “But you still liked it because you thought that it was romantic to share a drink with Wonwoo.” Jihoon tried to counter.

Soonyoung laughed nervously, chancing a brief glance at a sleeping Wonwoo on the couch.

“Besides, cola and Pepsi are completely different. There’s a whole WikiHow page on finding its differences.” Jihoon added, trying to validate himself.

“Really?” Seungcheol unlocked his phone and searched for the webpage. Sure, it was there, and he started to read off it; sharing the subtle differences between the two beverages with anyone who would listen.

Jihoon felt elated, that Seungcheol was on his side, even for a petty thing. He watched Seungcheol with fascination, admiring his absurdly long eyelashes, and his deep voice that raised goosebumps on his skin.

“Must schedule a taste test to differentiate Pepsi and cola.” Soonyoung muttered to himself as he listened to Seungcheol. The model finished reading off the webpage and stretched languidly, done with his meal.

“Don’t you guys have school tomorrow?” Seungcheol asked, when he checked the time – it was way after midnight, the hands of the clock on the wall almost inching to one AM.

“Yes.” Jihoon nodded, already dreading old Mr Kang’s science class – they were reviewing something science-y that he didn’t care about for next week’s midterms.

“We’ll take the earliest train back.” Soonyoung said confidently. “Then we’ll be back here to record some more. My calculations point that the band will finish recording at the end of this week, then we’ll have our own demo!”

“That’s nice to know.” Seungcheol said, smiling, then he turned to Jihoon. “Oh, there’s something on your face, Jihoonie.” Seungcheol reached out and wiped some sauce off the side of Jihoon’s mouth with his thumb. It wouldn’t have been a huge deal; but he just had to do it slowly, almost sensually, like a caress, keeping an intense gaze on Jihoon’s lips. All he had to do was just lean forward and kiss Jihoon. There was electricity in the air; and they both wanted it. Someone just had to make the move…

Soonyoung stared at them, bug-eyed with anticipation, but he started choking on his food, ruining the moment as Seungcheol and Jihoon broke away from each other. (Seungcheol had to whack Soonyoung’s back, as Jihoon silently cursed him for being such a cockblock).

“Ah, thank you for saving my life.” Soonyoung coughed, gulping some cider to wash it all down. Right then, Seungcheol’s phone started buzzing like mad, as a flurry of incoming messages flooded his phone. The model reached out for it, then a frown knotted between his eyebrows.

“It’s been nice hanging out with you guys. I’ve got to go.” Seungcheol said urgently, his expression unreadable. 

“Now? It’s in the middle of the night!” Jihoon exclaimed, only to be shushed by Soonyoung as Jeonghan rolled over in his sleep.

“Mingyu’s in town. He can pick me up.” Seungcheol pocketed his phone, and grabbed his leather jacket, which was draped over the back of his chair. “I’ll be a bit busy but I’ll see you around okay? Thanks for giving me a chance to shoot the music video. And good luck with recording.”

Seungcheol hesitated for a second before he headed to the lift, debating whether to give Jihoon a goodbye hug, but decided against it. So he simply got up and left with an enigmatic smile. Only quiet snores filled in the silence after Seungcheol left; a sudden chilly atmosphere filling the air.

“Who’s Mingyu?” Soonyoung asked, his cheeks full of food.

Jihoon sighed. Just when he thought he’d gotten closer, Seungcheol had to drift further away. A model, full of riddles, so indecipherable. “His boyfriend.” The peach-haired boy admitted.

“Oh. Sorry, Jihoon.” Soonyoung knew how much Jihoon liked Seungcheol, and this came as disappointing news to him. But Soonyoung felt like there was something special between Seungcheol and Jihoon, like that moment he’d ruined earlier…

“It’s fine, I guess.” Jihoon shrugged, turning back to the soundboard. He put the headphones on his head and pressed play, letting the music he’d written for Seungcheol drown him.

* * *

Jihoon fingered the CD case tucked inside his bag, right behind his ~~science~~ lyric book. It was midterms week, which meant that there were no classes, but exams that counted half of their final grades. Right behind him, Jeonghan was panic cramming at the absolute last minute, using Joshua’s neatly written notes, but Jihoon himself didn’t care one bit. Exams were nothing. Since that night in Bumzu’s studio, the nameless band had spent their free time recording their songs; and Jihoon had convinced himself that he was definitely going to pursue music professionally. This was what he was meant to do – the songwriting process had consumed him; and the magic of producing fascinated him even more. There was still a lot for him to learn, and he knew that he wouldn’t get that kind of knowledge at Sink Street Academy.

The CD in his bag was one extra copy of his band’s demo he’d asked Bumzu to make. Jihoon finally spotted him, after missing him for days – standing across Sink Street Academy, wearing that denim jacket and a neutral expression. The boy broke away from the crowd heading to school, and approached Seungcheol instead, with a noticeable spring in his step.

Seungcheol offered him a tired smile when he drew closer, and Jihoon immediately knew something was off.

“Hey. You okay?”

The model simply shrugged. “I’m fine, Jihoonie, don’t worry. I’m glad to see you.”

“Okay then.” Jihoon nodded, though he was still worried. He wanted to reach out and give Seungcheol a hug, but he felt too exposed – his schoolmates were all looking at them, whispering. Rumours of him monkeying around with Seungcheol would surface before lunch, but Jihoon doesn’t care – nobody really knew the truth. Those were just fabricated stories, just for something for the kids at Sink Street to talk about.

Instead, he reached into his bag and retrieved the CD, handing it over to Seungcheol. “I want you to have this. It’s our demo.”

Seungcheol looked at the CD in his hands, turning it over. There’s a handwritten tracklist scrawled onto a scrap of paper, slotted into the back of the case. “All your songs.”

“Yes.”

“Thank you.”

Jihoon smiled at Seungcheol expectantly.

“I’ll listen to them later.”

Jihoon nodded. “Soonyoung’s still working on the music video. He won’t let me see it, though, but I’ll make sure he lets you have a look when he’s done.”

“Brilliant.” Seungcheol remembered filming that little project in the middle of the night; his every move directed by Soonyoung. He thought that Soonyoung had a knack for those things, even though the kid had admitted that he wasn’t very good with the camera.

Jihoon looked like he still had a lot of things to say, but the school bell rang at that very moment.

“Will I see you again later?” The peach-haired boy asked, clutching the strap of his bag.

Seungcheol shrugged.

“I gotta go.”

“See you, cutie.” The model liked the way Jihoon turned red whenever he called him that.

Seungcheol watched Jihoon join his fellow schoolmates, hurrying into the school compound; and let out a sigh. He missed the school atmosphere. He didn’t really like lessons, but school provided him an escape from his controlling parents who dictated his life. It seemed like a whole lifetime away when he’d been in school, donning the stuffy grey blazer that made up part of Sink Street Academy’s uniform.

He would’ve been in Jeonghan and Joshua’s class, if he stayed in school; but he’d been expelled about a year ago for something he didn’t do.

It had been a messy case, involving drugs and sex and alcohol, and innocent Seungcheol had been caught up in the middle of everything, unfairly framed by Student Council President Park. Just the memory of it made his blood boil - he was the one who’d gotten the boot, while Park, the real perpetrator, had gotten away scot-free, even graduating top of his class.

Seungcheol used to attend Sink Street Academy himself; just an average boy, with average grades, living in an average town. He never stood out the way Jeonghan and Joshua did; he tended to blend in with the crowd. He used to have much, much longer bangs that covered his eyes - and no one bothered to talk to the kid who sat alone, doodling in his notebook at the front of the class.

Maybe his name had been uttered more than once by the girls from the all-girls school a few streets over, thanks to his hidden, but handsome features. But Seungcheol never had an interest in them. All he wanted to do was graduate from school, then move to the big city to pursue his dreams in fashion and modelling. No one in this small town seemed to understand him, shunning his ambitions (again, Sink Street Academy didn’t encourage the creative arts).

He was just a nobody, drifting through life almost aimlessly, going to school in the mornings, then working part-time at the grocery store in the afternoons and on weekends. (Oddly enough, most of the patrons seemed to be giggling schoolgirls hiding behind crates of watermelons as Seungcheol arranged milk cartons in the chiller).

He didn’t bother anyone, so no one bothered him, and that was the way Seungcheol liked it.

But it only took one day for his somewhat normal life to be turned around completely.

It was time for PE, and Seungcheol was heading to the school field with his classmates. They were going to play football, which Seungcheol was decent at, and he was looking forward to it. Except that he’d been dragged by the collar to the headmaster’s office by the school’s stern disciplinary master Mr Kim, without prior warning, as his classmates watched in shock before turning their backs to continue picking teams like nothing had happened.

He’d been roughly pushed into the headmaster’s office by Mr Kim, who shut the door behind him. Inside, Headmaster Yoo was waiting, his face already red with anger. Right beside the old man, Student Council President Park was wearing a grave expression, standing with his arms crossed.

Seungcheol had absolutely no idea what was going on, until Headmaster Yoo slapped several grainy photos onto his desk and gruffly told Seungcheol to look at them. He couldn’t even make out the blurry silhouettes in the photographs, when the headmaster started shouting accusations at him.

Park was shaking his head. “He’s a bad egg, sir. An embarrassment to our good school!”

Seungcheol stood there, dumbfounded at the absurd allegations that had been thrown at him. Drinking? The closest he’d gotten to alcohol was at the grocery store, and even then the manager told him to stay away from the wine section. Drugs? Hell, he didn’t even know where to get those, though he’d heard rumours that some senior kid was selling them in bulk. And prostitution? He’s not even interested in women!

He took a closer look at the photos - it was all blurry images of a couple leaning up against a wall, doing the dirty. It seemed to have been taken from far away, looking more like a random collection of pixels rather than solid photo evidence. Seungcheol knew very well that the person in the photographs wasn’t him, but the setting looked very familiar...

His memory flashed to two nights ago, when he’d been on a late shift at the grocery store. He’d been out at the back in the alley, throwing out a bunch of rotten bananas, when there was a loud sound coming from behind him, of someone stumbling over a trash can. A titter of girly laughter broke the silence in the alley; then the strong scent of perfume and alcohol assaulted Seungcheol’s nostrils. He could barely make out the silhouette of a tall man practically glued to a curvy lady in the low light.

It was a dead-end alley, full of stinking dumpsters, and the couple was blocking his only way out. There was no way that Seungcheol could leave without being noticed by them, so he stood behind a dumpster, held his breath, and hoped that the couple would just leave - they wouldn’t do anything raunchy in a dirty alley, right?

Seungcheol glanced at the couple again, and immediately recognized the man as Student Council President Park, always impeccably imposing at school, but right now he looked like a downright mess; his hair all flattened over his forehead. There was a joint hanging from his lips, and he clung to the scantily-clad woman beside him, unable to walk straight, like he was drunk and high at the same time. Park threw the still-smoking joint aside and pushed the girl up against the wall, kissing her roughly as he tugged his jeans down, grinding himself against her.

Seungcheol had to look away when the girl let out a loud moan when Park pushed himself into her without hesitation.

Oh fuck, that was disgusting.

Just one thing - Park didn’t have an impressive dick.

At the memory, Seungcheol balled his hands into fists, glaring in anger at Park, who kept his expression fairly neutral behind Headmaster Yoo, being Sink Street Academy’s golden child as he’d always been known as.

But Park was the one who had been in the alley that night, guilty of all the criminal claims that had been pinned onto him. Seungcheol could definitely vouch that it had been Park having sex with that prostitute in the alley that night - he wasn’t likely to forget what he’d seen, though he desperately wanted to.

“Sir, he might get aggressive. You know how those drug addicts are.” Park said to Principal Yoo.

Those photos Headmaster Yoo had were clearly of Park, and Seungcheol advanced towards him, about to say something when Mr Kim held him back, scared that Seungcheol would suddenly attack the headmaster.

Headmaster Yoo went on to say that there were eyewitnesses who saw Seungcheol leave that alley that night, after the prostitute. Of course he did - he wasn’t going to stay there overnight, surrounded by fermenting trash! Then how did those so-called eyewitnesses miss Park, who was the one who’d left first, right after he’d wrecked the prostitute?

Something was definitely off, and Park was the puppet master.

Seungcheol couldn’t get a word in between, as Headmaster Yoo convinced himself that Seungcheol was a troublemaker. Park, of course, added his own biased opinions, trying to deflect himself away as the real delinquent in this case. Bastard was trying to keep his good name, telling lies to the gullible headmaster.

Headmaster Yoo was already telling Seungcheol about the process of kicking him out from school - there was no questioning his decision; it was final. Right then, Seungcheol’s parents suddenly burst into the room, looking all frantic; hearing that their son had gotten into trouble. Park was the one who calmly told them the things that had (falsely) gotten Seungcheol into trouble, emphasising that all of it were criminal; methodically laying out the evidence as if he was a prosecutor in court building a case.

Seungcheol’s father turned red with anger, while his mother’s face clearly showed her heart breaking. But the biggest letdown for Seungcheol was that his parents actually believed Headmaster Yoo and Park’s fabrication; and disowned him without even hearing his side of the story. To them, it was crystal clear - the photographs (albeit incredibly blurred), the setting. They knew that their son had a late shift at the grocery store that night - Seungcheol had no alibi.

Seungcheol was a bad egg, to put it in Park’s words.

Seungcheol didn’t know why Park had framed him. Maybe he’d simply been at the wrong place, at the wrong time.

He was kicked out from school from that very moment; his parents disowning him. At least Headmaster Yoo didn’t press criminal charges onto him, otherwise his life would’ve been hell. Still, it unsettled Seungcheol that Park was getting away with all of this - he was the real criminal. 

Seungcheol’s parents moved away soon enough, disappointed with their son, leaving their him alone in that small town.

Seungcheol was now on his own.

He wasn’t a student anymore, and he had no more family. He was free to do as he pleased - he got his hair cut and changed his image from an emo kid from the 2000s into a gorgeous supermodel walking the biggest fashion runways on earth. His features were already naturally handsome - he just needed a few modelling jobs to boost himself into his prospective career path of being a model.

Only that he was stuck in this damned town, broke and homeless, with nothing to do but odd jobs here and there, trying to make a decent living for himself. He quit his job at the grocery store, not wanting to associate himself with the place where all this shite had started, even though the pay was decent. No one in school knew what happened to Seungcheol, and no one asked, either - they all thought he’d gone away with his family. He’d been a wallflower at school; not one to be missed.  But ironically, Seungcheol was just going about town as usual, only with a different, more polished look from what they knew.

He was on his own, until he met Mingyu, who showed him more opportunities and gave him so much love than he thought he deserved.

Mingyu was an upcoming fashion designer, and when he learned of Seungcheol’s aspirations, he started creating his fashion collections around Seungcheol. Once or twice, Mingyu would bring Seungcheol with him to the nearest town when he had a fashion shoot, letting him have a taste of the process. Seungcheol loved it all - the different outfits, getting the perfect angles, and the endurance of staying still in one pose until the photographer got the best shot. He felt exactly at home at photo shoots, knowing that this was what he was made to do.

Their relationship eventually turned from business to personal; from late nights to drunken kisses, to whispers of promises that they’d make it big in the fashion world together, one day: Mingyu as an acclaimed designer with the likes of Gucci and Louis Vuitton; and Seungcheol would be his model muse.

Seungcheol liked the thrill of being with someone so out of his league - Mingyu wasn’t just a pretty face (sometimes, he’d model his own creations himself) but he was dependable, too. Mingyu was older, and he knew more about the world, and Seungcheol admired that about him. He was the one who made Seungcheol believe in his own dreams again - they’d stay up late at night with a bottle of wine, talking endlessly about fashion design before they stumbled into bed together, limbs entangled between the sheets -

Mingyu knew how much Seungcheol wanted to go to the big city, but he was scared that Seungcheol would leave him for better things when they got there; so he kept a tight rein on Seungcheol, confining him to the little town he grew up in. Seungcheol never questioned it - he knew good things took time. Sometimes Mingyu would be gone for days, which stretched into weeks, and Seungcheol would feel pitiful about himself, wandering around town aimlessly.

Most days, when he had nothing better to do (like now), he’d hang out across the street from his former school, thinking about what could have been.

What would it have been like, if he could see Jihoon every day at school, between classes, eating lunch together, basically experiencing the whole teen high school romance? There was no use daydreaming about things that weren’t going to happen - Seungcheol wasn’t a student anymore; and Jihoon wasn’t exclusively his: they were just friends.

There were bullies like Junhui, then there were bullies like Park. The latter was worse, and Seungcheol didn’t want Jihoon to get hurt like he did.

A year had passed since then, but he was getting nowhere near his own dreams. At least he could watch Jihoon achieve his goals to pursue music - he’d practically watched the band grow, and it made him proud.

There was nothing else for him to do here, since school had started. He’d seen Jihoon already, so that was enough. Maybe he’d see Jihoon again later when school finishes.

Seungcheol looked at the CD in his hands and smiled.

* * *

Jihoon headed to class reluctantly, everyone else around him frantically worrying for midterms. He wasn’t one of them - he was thinking about how Seungcheol would react to the demo.

Would he like it, or would he hate it? He’d thought about listening to the songs together, but he wouldn’t know how to act around Seungcheol. He’d write a million songs for Seungcheol, but to tell him exactly how he felt, directly to his face, was a bit daunting for Jihoon.

Someone slung an arm around his shoulders comfortably; and for a moment, Jihoon thought that it was Seungcheol, calming him down. But imagine his surprise when he saw Junhui’s smirking face by him…

“Saw you with your sugar daddy just now.” Junhui rasped, his hot breath tickling Jihoon’s ear.

Jihoon pressed his lips together, trying not to retaliate with a snappy remark. Humouring Junhui would be a waste of his time, besides, Jihoon didn’t want anything to do with the bully. He imagined body slamming Junhui to the ground, then running off to the safety of his classroom; but Junhui immediately dragged him into the janitor’s closet nearby, and locked the door behind him.

The space was small and dark, and Jihoon could barely see Junhui in front of him. He could sense the other boy’s intimidating presence, and he felt dizzy and disoriented in the dark.

Suddenly, a light flickered on, and Jihoon blinked his eyes, trying to get used to the sudden brightness. Junhui’s face was directly in front of him, a small smirk painting his face. Jihoon backed away into a shelf of cleaning supplies, and something dropped to his side with a thud.

Don’t be scared. Junhui said with a low voice, resting his hand on the wall over Jihoon’s head, caging him. Jihoon’s heart started racing, scared at what Junhui might do. He wanted to fight, to push Junhui away, but his muscles locked up, and he was frozen in his spot.

Suddenly a pair of lips smashed roughly against his, strong arms snaking around his slender frame.

Junhui was kissing him, and he didn’t like it one bit.

It only lasted for about a second before Jihoon found strength to wrestle himself out of Junhui’s vice grip and push him away, staring at him in horror. He felt tainted, the sweet memory of the taste of Seungcheol’s lips dissipating away.

“What the fuck, man?” Jihoon spat out, a frown knotting between his eyebrows.

Junhui wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, stepping backwards with a satisfied smirk on his face. “I wanted to do that since the first day.” He unbuttoned the top buttons of his rumpled shirt. “Why do you need that sugar daddy when you could have me?”

Jihoon was at a loss for words, and he desperately wanted to leave the tiny room - Junhui’s overall presence was freaking him out. Too many thoughts swirled in his mind: Junhui’s sudden confession, his science midterm later, but most importantly, Seungcheol.

It felt like he was cheating on Seungcheol, making out with Junhui in a supply closet at school, even though it was just a brief kiss. Jihoon felt a lump form in his throat - he felt helpless; like things were going out of his control. Junhui was too close, breathing down his face, smelling like cigarettes, eyeing Jihoon like he was preying on him; looking more than capable to coerce Jihoon into more than just a kiss. Who knew what Junhui could possibly be thinking about – it wouldn’t be anything as fluffy as unicorns and cupcakes, judging from the intense bedroom gaze he had locked onto Jihoon.

Jihoon had to get out of the small, dark room. Fast.

He spied an opening by Junhui’s side - an escape route. With his small build, he easily slid under the arm of the boy caging him in, stumbling through the jumbled mops and brooms in the tiny space, before dragging the door open to escape into the bright hallway from the claustrophobic space.

Jihoon hurried to his classroom, never looking back to see if Junhui was following him. His heart was slamming in his chest so loudly that he could practically hear it. His fear was pumping adrenaline through his veins as he weaved past the few latecomers in the almost deserted hallway, straggling to class.

He’d never been more grateful to enter the safety of his classroom, where old Mr Kang was just taking attendance. Everyone looked at him when he arrived like a hurricane, eyes manic; his uniform slightly dishevelled. He ignored all the stares from his classmates, while Old Mr Kang barked at him to sit down; they were about to start the test.

Jihoon tried to put whatever had happened in the back of his mind as he settled in his seat right before Old Mr Kang put a sheaf of papers on his desk - the dreaded science midterm. But he couldn’t shake away the sensation of Junhui’s lips over his, breath smelling like cigarettes; and he scrunched his nose at the memory, feeling nauseous. He held his head in his hands, short of slamming it against the desk in frustration.

“Psst. You okay, Jihoon?” Soonyoung threw a worried look at his friend, ignoring the fact that they were in the middle of a test.

Jihoon nodded, even if his expression showed otherwise. The words on the paper in front of him were blurring into one huge illegible blob – angry tears were stinging his eyes. He was confused. Since the first day, he’d gotten the impression that Junhui didn’t like him, hence the bullying. It wouldn’t make sense to bully someone you like, right? Jihoon didn’t want to sit there and answer exam questions; he wanted a reassuring hug from Seungcheol – if only he could just get up and leave…  

Between Junhui, Seungcheol and this bloody science midterm - things had just gotten more complicated.

* * *

Seungcheol sat on his bed, listening to Jihoon’s CD. The calming music wrapped around him, greeting him like an old friend; Jihoon’s melodic high voice sending shivers down his spine, making his toes tingle.

He exhaled deeply, analysing each sound the band made, each note that Jihoon sang. For a bunch of amateur kids, they seemed to be an okay band – and not to be biased; but Seungcheol thought Jihoon sparkled a bit more compared to his bandmates, but it was probably because the boy was the one singing on every track. Seungcheol remembered that Jihoon wrote material for the band, so those words, those melodies, brought to life by Jihoon and his friends, and it made every song feel so special.

He'd been listening to nothing but Jihoon’s band’s CD for the past few days, wallowing in his bed. He hadn’t seen Jihoon since that morning, floating through life aimlessly, waiting for a miracle to happen.

Those sweet words that Jihoon sang were really confessions towards someone he liked the most. Seungcheol wasn’t clueless; there was something different in the way Jihoon treated him. More careful. How he blushed too easily when Seungcheol called him cute. His adorable little eyesmiles, which made Seungcheol smile too, when he thought of it. And how Jihoon let no one else (apart from his band) listen to his self-written music, which they’d bonded over. Those meaningful lyrics he’d written, weaved intricately with beautiful melodies that formed in his little head – Seungcheol loved them all.

Call him delusional, but Seungcheol was sure that all those love songs Jihoon wrote was for him.

Days on end, listening to Jihoon’s songs – Seungcheol found himself stuck at a crossroad.

He wanted to love Jihoon back.

And he wanted to go to the big city like he’d always dreamed of since he was younger.

Would it be too much if he asked for both?

He’d gotten the answer this morning – in the form of a text message from Mingyu.

Seungcheol was going to run away to the big city, with Mingyu, like he’d planned all along; and he wasn’t going to come back to this damned town.

His room was bare, only the mattress that he was sitting on filled the small room. Seungcheol didn’t have many belongings to begin with, so whatever meagre items he had was already neatly packed in the bag sitting by the door.

He knew that the big city offered new opportunities, new experiences – he’d be able to kickstart his dream of being a model there, rather than in this dreary little town that had nothing but stinky docks. Seungcheol was young and naïve; his family was gone, and no one cared what he did, anyway.

There was nothing in this damned town that could make Seungcheol stay.

Except for a certain small peach-haired boy.

Jihoon had been an unexpected presence in Seungcheol’s life. How he became integral in Seungcheol’s daily life, from his music to his thoughts embedded in his lyrics; to his physical presence that made Seungcheol forget just about everything. Jihoon had something that intrigued him so, so badly, plaguing his thoughts day in and day out – how could a simple schoolboy enchant him so? But of course, Jihoon was much more complicated than he seemed, and Seungcheol wanted to untangle that convoluted web that made up Jihoon’s personality. 

But Seungcheol knew that he had no future with the boy in this dead-end town.

Jihoon deserved far better than what Seungcheol was now. Seungcheol had nothing – he couldn’t support Jihoon, not financially. Seungcheol had nothing to offer to the boy except for love, but that wouldn’t be enough for the real world.

Maybe if he left quietly, Jihoon would forget about him. Maybe if he worked hard enough, he could return, only for Jihoon, so they could begin something together.

But where would that place Mingyu, the one who’d patched him up when he was broken, the one who’d listened to his dreams; and the one who’d helped him all along?

It was the most difficult decision to make, but it had to be done.

Seungcheol took out the sim card from his phone, looking at the tiny chip in his hand. Then he smashed it into tiny pieces under his boot, effectively erasing any form of contact with Jihoon.

He could feel his heart breaking into a million tiny pieces, just like the remains of his sim card littering the floor. Tears were now rolling down his face, as he stared at the debris on the ground; mourning something that he never had. It felt like his heart had been ripped out of his chest – his tears were now unstoppable, wetting his shirt, and he buried his face in his hands, letting himself cry his heart out.

He wished it didn’t have to hurt so bad, but it did. Jihoon meant a lot more to him that he’d thought.

He was letting go of his dream, to chase after another.

A familiar honk blared from outside, and Seungcheol hurried to his window just to make sure that it was his ride. Mingyu’s secondhand car was parked haphazardly by the pavement, its owner talking loudly into his phone for the whole neighbourhood to hear.

It was time to go.

Seungcheol wiped the remains of his tears away, then grabbed his bag.  He hesitated for a while, when he saw the ancient portable CD player on his mattress, with Jihoon’s band’s demo still tucked inside, whirring around, as the music played softly. He stopped the player and took the CD out, wondering whether to leave it behind.

The only item that he had left that linked him to Jihoon and his music.

Another impatient honk from downstairs - Mingyu must be very busy, and eager to leave. Seungcheol made a split-second decision and stuffed the CD into its case, putting it carefully into his bag. He didn’t bother looking back at the miserable room he’d inhabited for the past year. It was practically empty, save for the old mattress and the CD player sitting on it; and he locked the door with a quiet click behind him.

Mingyu hung up when he saw Seungcheol emerge from the building, and he strode over to greet his boyfriend. If he noticed Seungcheol’s tear-stained face, he didn’t say anything.  

“Hey.” Mingyu leaned in for a kiss, but Seungcheol dodged it, quickly ducking into the passenger seat. The quicker they left town, the better.

“Let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- why is cheol so mysterious? listen to: [ the riddle of the model from sing street ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S8VtbULzJTU)  
> \- also seventeen song feature: [ adore u acoustic version ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SEs7ON2Pzqo)
> 
> \- feedback would be nice. cry with me. have some tissues. or yell at me on [ twitter. ](https://twitter.com/sleepyscoops) this was kinda difficult to write, and watch me take another couple of months to update this :]


	3. chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **SAD**
> 
> featured seventeen song: [ pinwheel ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FslUTgfCZPk)  
> sad playlist:  
> [ day6's you were beautiful](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BS7tz2rAOSA)  
> [ day6's falling ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XhMj2oIKuEI)  
> [ day6's stop the rain ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=64DtWBXjU2Y)  
> [ seventeen's habit ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=co34EipkpYY)

The seasons were changing, from crisp, numbing weather to a milder one; the atmosphere thick with the scent of blooming flowers.

Winter turned to spring, which symbolised new beginnings, the transition of bare trees to little green shoots slowly unfurling into leaves as the days passed. There seemed to be an air of mirth as the people of the little town welcomed spring. Everyone basked in the weak sunshine, looking forward to warmer days as the chill of winter melted away - everyone except for Jihoon, who never noticed the changing seasons; his frozen heart still in deep winter, surrounded by the cold and numbness. He ghosted through his days, barely human, thinking of nothing except for a certain model who’d made his heart bloom beautiful flowers in the winter, but now those metaphorical flowers were ironically dying in the dawn of spring.

It has been more than a month since Jihoon last saw Seungcheol. He’d tried calling, as per Soonyoung’s recommendation, which took up a lot of guts, hesitating once too many times to dial Seungcheol’s number - only to receive a cold, robotic voice on the other end of the line, informing him that the number had been disconnected. His worries escalated when his texts to Seungcheol bounced back, all undelivered. Even his shadow was missing from across Sink Street Academy, his familiar presence gone like a whisper.

It was as if Seungcheol had disappeared, like he’d never existed in Jihoon’s life.

But how could he not exist, when all Jihoon’s been thinking about was Seungcheol’s million dollar gummy smile, plaguing his little brain just about every second of every minute of every day?

Jihoon tried to grasp onto the wisps of memories he had of Seungcheol - his deep voice, his smile, his lips, and oh, that amazing first kiss they’d shared…

He remembered the warmth of Seungcheol’s lips moving gently against his, strong arms embracing him, giving him a taste of what love should be. It was a memory so distant, that it almost seemed like a dream.

It was too good to be real, anyway, and Jihoon thought that he was going to go mad, missing over something he never really had -  venturing into grey areas with Seungcheol, bordering between acquaintances and lovers - Jihoon’s heart was so full of love for Seungcheol, and he was sure that to some degree, Seungcheol reciprocated, too, unless it was some unbased schoolboy daydream.

What if Jihoon and Seungcheol were like perpendicular lines, destined for their lives to intersect only once, the move on in different directions?

Just the idea of that made regret claw at his chest, making Jihoon wish that he’d laid his heart out properly for Seungcheol, instead of words wound within songs that could mean anything towards anyone who listened.

He was in a slump, and no amount of songs could magically bring Seungcheol back. It was like a nightmare come true, something that Jihoon dreaded, which was never seeing Seungcheol again.

The days dragged on, a blur of lessons that Jihoon wasn’t even remotely interested in. He’d barely passed his midterms, and now his teachers were paying extra attention to him during class, hovering around his desk to make sure he did his work properly.

Joshua kindly offered to help him with his studies, tutoring Jihoon whenever they had free time, which the boy took for granted. He simply wasn’t interested in the direction of his education - when exactly would he use quadratic equations in real life, and why would anyone care about the anatomy of worms?

There was nothing for Jihoon to look forward to, though he constantly held out a tiny sliver of hope that he’d glimpse Seungcheol’s familiar denim (or leather) jacket across the street whenever school finished.

Even music turned against him to become an enemy. What used to be his solace from the weight of the world became a chore for Jihoon, as he played the same old songs over and over that painfully reminded him of Seungcheol. Wonwoo still let everyone hang over at his house on the pretense of band practice, which turned into a gathering of ragtags instead. Jihoon would be sulking in the corner, angry with his creative block while his bandmates (and band manager) paired off with each other, flirting shamelessly; almost forgetting the reason they congregated every day after school.

There seemed no real reason to continue the band, anyway. Jeonghan and Joshua were getting more invested in their studies, since graduation was only a few months away for them. They’d be studying together, occasionally throwing erasers at each other playfully during what was supposed to be band practice. Meanwhile, Soonyoung would tap around on Wonwoo’s laptop, with its owner hovering around nearby, probably fooling around on the internet, bursting into giggles every two seconds.

No one seemed to be properly interested in music anymore, not even Jihoon. He’d hold his guitar, staring off into space as he silently fingered the strings, but no music would flow out of the instrument. He wanted to release the pain in his chest creatively by writing a song, but it became a burden instead of a comfort for him; his mind struggling to form coherent lyrics from the thoughts crashing in his head, accompanied by a dull buzz. The flame of inspiration that fuelled his music had snuffed out; and now he was left there alone, grasping for a semblance of light to guide him in the darkness. The beautiful melodies he’d used to compose in his head were gone, as if they’d disappeared along with Seungcheol.

Meanwhile, Junhui had gone missing too. Rumours were rife that he had been arrested, and would be jailed after court proceedings. Some said he’d been thieving, others believed he was pushing drugs - but everyone simply agreed that it had been some criminal deed that cost him this misfortune.  Jihoon didn’t know what to believe among the rumours - not that he cared much - besides, as time passed, people started talking about other petty things, like the school dance that would be held at the end of the school year.

Jihoon was simply glad that Junhui was gone - no one to bother him anymore at school; but apart from his bandmates, Junhui was the only one who gave him attention at school (albeit of the negative kind), and for that reason, Jihoon almost missed him too, like some twisted form of Stockholm Syndrome, almost sympathising with the bully for not being able to finish his education at Sink Street, which was trivial despite everything else.

Jihoon never understood Junhui’s actions, being reminded of the misery the boy had put him through since the first day he stepped foot into Sink Street Academy. Jihoon retaliated each time Junhui tried to bother him; he was probably the only kid that stood up against him. But turning from physical bullying to kissing him in a janitor’s closet…that was a twist that Jihoon never expected, and exactly why, he’d probably never find out. He could never forget being trapped in that dark utility closet with Junhui, a bitter memory that surfaced every time he passed by that area on his way to class.

The life he knew when he started at Sink Street had gone, changing into something entirely different that Jihoon had difficulty adapting to. He didn’t have to worry about Junhui tormenting him anymore, but he hated the empty feeling that came with the Seungcheol-shaped hole in his life.

It was just another eventless day after school. Jihoon followed Jeonghan and Joshua out the gates of Sink Street Academy, cringing when Jeonghan casually intertwined his fingers between Joshua’s. Jihoon stopped in his tracks, letting the pair walk away as they giggled at their inside jokes. Soonyoung and Wonwoo were nowhere to be found, as usual - those two were prone to be MIA around this time.

Jihoon didn’t want to go home yet, there was nothing for him to do except finish his assignments, which he didn’t care about. Jeonghan and Joshua left without noticing, probably having a merry and gay time without him tagging along. He watched as the pair left, then took off in the opposite direction, pulling his school blazer tighter around himself. 

Jihoon walked around town aimlessly, passing by the coffee shop where they had their first ‘date’ simply talking about their interests. He was tempted to walk in and buy himself a coffee so he could pretend that Seungcheol bought it for him, but his pockets were empty; he was broke. He stood in front of the cosy shop, letting the rich aroma of coffee beans wafting out of the shop rejuvenate him - he could almost feel the bitter taste of coffee on his tongue. There was no reason for him to hang outside the coffee shop, so he promptly left, letting out a little sigh.

He went to the park where he’d first kissed Seungcheol, sitting down at the exact same bench, imagining Seungcheol right next to him. But of course the seat next to his was empty, dusted with some pink cherry blossom petals that fell from the trees too soon.

Last time he’d been there, the tree branches had been bare; but now, foliage was slowly returning, calming light green leaves that would form a nice shade in the summer months.

The seasons were different, and the feeling was different. Jihoon looked up at the blooming trees, wishing that someone - Seungcheol - would be there with him. He wondered what Seungcheol would say about the cherry blossoms, but his memory of Seungcheol’s deep calming voice was fading away. He could only remember bits of Seungcheol at times - his beautiful doe eyes; his highly kissable lips; the hint of his melodic laugh that made Jihoon smile. It was like a jigsaw puzzle slowly breaking up into pieces, remembering Seungcheol fragment by fragment and never whole; which made Jihoon pine for him even more.

_[Can’t I see you again? These days where I also think of bad things – your face starts fading from my mind.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FslUTgfCZPk) _

He sat there for hours, watching people enter and exit the park, holding onto a little bit of hope that Seungcheol might be one of them, making an entrance wearing his signature denim jacket. People came and left, ignoring the peach-haired boy sitting alone on a bench; but none of them were Seungcheol. Yet Jihoon never stopped hoping, immersing his mind with the little fragments of Seungcheol that he remembered.  

Soon, late afternoon turned to evening, the blue sky turning a brilliant orange as the sun set in the west. Night was approaching, and it was getting colder. Jihoon’s fingers were freezing, almost turning blue at the tips.

He felt empty. He wanted to cry and scream his heart out; but his throat was dry, and his voice was gone.

At the back of his mind, a little voice told him that Seungcheol was never going to come back.

He could feel his heart breaking once more at the thought; his eyes becoming teary.

He’d been sitting there for hours on end, and the hobo lying on the bench across him was starting to throw dirty looks in his direction. There was simply nothing else to do here, and couples entering the park being all lovey-dovey made him feel nauseous, knowing that he’d probably never share moments like that with Seungcheol.

Jihoon left the park, letting his legs take him anywhere. No one heeded the boy with the peach hair, hurrying to the comfort of their homes after a long day of work. He had nowhere to go, floating through the streets aimlessly with too many thoughts in his head.

The city lights were turning on as the sky became darker, reflecting against the sea like little moons. He found himself down at the docks, seagulls screeching above his head; the stench of the area mixed in with the salty sea breeze assaulting his nostrils.

Jihoon remembered Soonyoung’s atrocious idea of filming a music video at that exact location. The whole thing had been poorly planned - no wonder it was bound to fail. Said music video hadn’t seen the light; probably hidden somewhere inside Wonwoo’s hard drive. Inviting Seungcheol along for the filming was probably a bad idea too, and the model had even turned up late, though he’d apologised to Jihoon with a coffee ‘date’. It had been amazing - he’d gotten to know Seungcheol a lot more as a person, especially the heartbreaking fact that Seungcheol actually had a boyfriend who was as gorgeous as he was.

His heart dropped a bit more, weighed down by disappointment and regret that he might just abandon music, just because he started it for the wrong reason - to impress someone who was simply out of his own league.

“Hey, kid.”

Jihoon turned around to see Junhui’s father skulking towards him. At least, Jihoon assumed that the man was Junhui’s father, having seen him with the boy back when they had attempted to film a video there, which seemed like eons ago.

Jihoon bowed his head slightly, wondering if he was trespassing. At this point, he wouldn’t mind getting arrested - he craved change, anything to distract himself from his inner turmoil.

“I’d remember you anywhere. You’re Jun’s friend.” The man lit up when he recognised Jihoon. His teeth were slightly crooked and stained yellow with nicotine; yet Jihoon could notice the similarity of his features with Junhui. Jihoon took a step back, keeping his gaze locked onto the ground.

“Not really.” Jihoon muttered under his breath. The mere mention of Junhui’s name invoked bitter memories of being trapped inside a supply closet with the boy - the overwhelming scent of cigarettes and body odour made him feel dizzy.

“You’re always gonna stand out in a crowd with that peach hair, kid.” Junhui’s dad remarked.

Jihoon ruffled his hair, its colour slowly fading away after months from the initial dye job. “I’m thinking of changing it back to black.”

“Whatever floats your boat.” The man shrugged, as the loud blare of a ship’s horn echoed in the background. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. “Want a smoke?”

“No thanks.”

“Good. Keep your lungs healthy, kid.” He lit a cigarette up, then held the stick up to his chapped lips, leisurely breathing in the toxic contents. “Don’t mind if I do.” He puffed out a grey cloud of smoke that irritated Jihoon’s nose; and the boy coughed.

Jihoon didn’t know how to excuse himself politely and leave, so he just stood beside the smoking man, gazing at the murky sea that stretched beyond the horizon.

They stood there for a moment, until Junhui’s dad broke the silence. “I sent Jun to military school.”

“Oh.” Jihoon didn’t know how to process that little bit of information; but one thing was for sure: the rumours about the bully by the kids Sink Street were simply too far-fetched.

“Kid needed a bit more discipline. Got too many complaints from the headmaster; apparently the boy was doing nasty things to the other kids at school.”

Jihoon didn’t say anything; he’d been Junhui’s victim too many times. He didn’t know if Junhui had been bothering the other kids at school, too, but it was none of his business.

Junhui’s father sighed, a plume of smoke escaping from his mouth. “I never raised him to be that way.”

Silence washed over them once more as the conversation fizzled off.

“You still playing your music, kid?”

“Not really.” Jihoon replied in a tiny voice.

The man blew out smoke rings, which grabbed Jihoon’s attention. “I used to play in high school, like you. But I stopped when I fucked up and got Jun’s mum pregnant.”

“I barely graduated high school, then I had to look for a job to support the kid. Got a little bit too busy tryna make ends meet, and it’s been years since I’ve even held a guitar.”

The man inhaled in a bit more smoke, pausing for a beat. He turned slightly to look at Jihoon before continuing. “What I’m trying to say is that you’re lucky, kid.”

“I suppose.” Jihoon breathed, barely giving it a thought.

Junhui’s dad dropped his cigarette to the ground, snuffing out the glowing embers with the heel of his boot. “When I saw you kids that day with your fancy equipment, it reminded me of what could’ve been if I kept playing.” He let out a bitter laugh. “Even though my band sucked, we had fun. Maybe other people weren’t happy because we were simply making a lot of noise, but that noise was music to our ears, and it made us happy.”

Night was falling upon the little town, the dark sea almost blending in with the dark sky. All was quiet down at the docks, setting a calming ambience for the unexpected heart-to-heart talk (albeit one-sided) between the unexpected pair. Jihoon gripped the railing in front of him that bordered the pier; the metal was as cold as his own hands.

“Don’t give up on the things that make you happy.” Junhui’s father said.

Jihoon’s skin prickled at that statement. He’d been drifting away from music lately, letting his guitar collect dust underneath his bed. Swept up in the negative thoughts that wrapped his mind over the past month since Seungcheol’s disappearance, Jihoon forgot how much he loved music – the whole process of expressing himself creatively, letting the world know his thoughts and feelings in his self-written lyrics and compositions.

He forgot how it felt, sitting in the studio next to Bumzu, with a pair of clunky headphones on his head, listening to the layers of music he’d created to make a seamless melody that at least one person in the world appreciated.

He forgot the euphoria of finishing a song; the nervous anticipation of letting other people listen to his music, only to be greeted by satisfied smiles and words of encouragement from his bandmates. He forgot he compliments about his music that Seungcheol would shower him with, the fond gaze and the secretive little smile he had when he looked at Jihoon, like he was a national treasure that should be protected.

He forgot the elation that music had brought him, associating it with so much pain instead that he had thoughts of leaving it all behind.

“Keep playing music, kid. You never know if you’ll get it all back if you stop playing like me.”

“Okay.” Jihoon whispered out to the sea.

They stood there on the pier for a while more, letting the calming sounds of the waves wash over them.

“Go home, kid. It’s getting late.” Junhui’s dad said after he checked his plastic watch.

Jihoon could only croak out a little thank you as the man left the area.

Despite Junhui’s father’s uplifting words, Jihoon felt another slump coming onto him. Sure, he could keep on playing his music, but it wouldn’t make him completely happy. The biggest source of his joy was gone without a trace, and there was nothing he could do that would ever bring Seungcheol back…

There was nowhere else for Jihoon to go this late at night. He contemplated going over to Wonwoo’s, but the rest of his band would probably be there, and he didn’t feel like socialising. So he headed home, walking slowly through the streets. The little town was slowly shutting down for the night; less cars on the road, giving off an eerie, desolated feeling.

His house was dark, as he turned the key in the lock. His father would be working overtime, or spending off his earnings in the happy hour down at the pub. If his own dad didn’t care much about him, then the feeling was mutual. Jihoon would be free to sulk in his room without a parent worrying about him. He was already thinking about his narrow bed, wishing that he could sleep for years – he was physically and mentally tired of his life.   

As Jihoon trudged up the stairs to his room, he could hear voices.

Soonyoung’s, to be exact.

Jihoon found Soonyoung and Wonwoo hunched over his desk, the pair barely noticing that the owner of the room was already back.

Jihoon didn’t want to think what Soonyoung and Wonwoo could be doing there, spying the colourful box of condoms - which clearly didn’t belong to him – lying on the edge of his bed. But he could hear the familiar guitar strains of his first ever self-written song faintly playing from somewhere.

Sensing Jihoon’s presence, Soonyoung whirled around, with the biggest fake smile on his face. “Hey, you’re back.” Meanwhile, Wonwoo quickly minimised the suspicious window on his laptop screen before he turned to acknowledge Jihoon.

“Don’t tell me you’re watching porn.” Jihoon said bluntly, noticing Wonwoo’s movements from the corner of his eye.

Wonwoo’s ears turned red, while Soonyoung laughed nervously. “Nothing of that sort, don’t worry.”

Jihoon desperately wanted to flop onto his bed and bury his face into his pillow, but he felt on edge with Soonyoung and Wonwoo’s presence. There would be a reason they were there, but Jihoon was too tired to ask why, so he just stood in the middle of his room, waiting for an explanation from them. The pair were clearly hiding something, and it would be a matter of time until he found out, but he didn’t have to wait for too long.

“We just finished up the music video.” Soonyoung said, a tinge of nervousness in his voice.

 _Music video…_ Jihoon was confused for a moment. But he immediately knew what Soonyoung was talking about - the video that Soonyoung had filmed in the dead of the night, starring Seungcheol; as the band were ensconced in Bumzu’s studio for their first-ever recording session? His eyes flicked to Wonwoo’s desktop, which was on idle, bubbles floating around on the screen.

He wasn’t sure which was worse – his friends watching rated videos, or their band’s unspoken music video, which they’d been quietly been working on. Why would his friends watch that video in his room? For a sense of what Jihoon was feeling? Well, right now he felt his heart smashing into a million more pieces, almost turning into dust; overwhelmed with so many emotions at once – betrayal and a tad bit of anger towards Soonyoung and Wonwoo; and sadness for Seungcheol’s absence, whom he missed terribly.

He hated feeling too much; he felt vulnerable. He wanted to be numb and heartless, so he didn’t have to worry about trivial matters revolving the heart.

“I wanna see it.” The unexpected words tumbled out of Jihoon’s mouth automatically in a hoarse whisper; and Soonyoung’s eyes became as wide as saucers at his request.

Jihoon didn’t need that kind of despair, watching about four minutes worth of nothing but footage of Seungcheol with his own voice singing in the background. He could banish Soonyoung and Wonwoo from his house right now, save himself the pain and wallow in bed until tomorrow morning.

But it seemed like closure, finishing off that bittersweet chapter in his life. One last time seeing Seungcheol’s face, then maybe he’d move on; strengthening his resolve to face the following days. if Seungcheol seemed fine without him, then he’d be fine, too. Eventually.

“Are you sure?” Wonwoo hesitated. Everyone wasn’t immune to Jihoon’s sadness, which had been triggered by Seungcheol’s mysterious disappearance. It became a sensitive issue in their band, an unwritten agreement that Seungcheol was He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. They did all it took to protect Jihoon’s fragile soul, avoiding the topic altogether; worried that he might just crack at the mere mention of Seungcheol’s name.

Jihoon approached the desk robotically, gesturing at the laptop. “Play it.”

Wonwoo cast a glance at Soonyoung, who nodded slowly. A few clicks here and there; and a close-up of Seungcheol’s brooding eyes filled the screen in the opening scene, accompanied by the opening strains of the first-ever song Jihoon had ever written, with the model in mind.

Everything else dissipated away as Jihoon was transported into his own world, filled with moving pictures of the only person he loved. He didn’t hear the music accompanying the video, only drinking in the familiar features of the beautiful man on the screen.  

Mixed emotions washed over him as he watched images of Seungcheol fade into connecting scenes with the backdrop of a dark, lonely town; a cinematic masterpiece.

A tinge of sadness bit at his chest; and tears stung his eyes, making the images onscreen melt into a blur. He let the music seep into his soul, listening to the lyrics properly, reminding of all the emotions he felt when he wrote the song, and was surprised to find that nothing had changed significantly.

Jihoon almost rejoiced in the fact that he was still irrevocably in love with Seungcheol, as he watched the video, but self-doubt quickly shrouded over himself, remembering how Seungcheol had ghosted him without a trace. Maybe he was too young for Seungcheol, who seemed to know a lot about the world – the good sides, and the bad sides. Maybe he’d held out too much hope that he could be with someone as special as Seungcheol – he was just a little schoolboy after all. 

He tried empty his mind, trying to rid of all the negative thoughts; all the maybe’s he had about himself, about his music, about Seungcheol.

This was certain: there were two things in this world that Jihoon loved the most.

Maybe he’d lost one of it, but he was going to hold on tightly onto what was left of the other; and he was never going to let go.

“ _Keep playing music, kid. You never know if you’ll get it all back if you stop…”_

It was crazy how Seungcheol had driven him to write a whole album of songs, the fuel to the fire of music that lit up his life. Maybe he’d started the band to impress Seungcheol. But he stayed for the joy music had brought him – everything seemed better with music.

His days in this little town had become more bearable when he spent time with the band, whether they were practicing, or just messing around with random high note battles. And there was that spark of hope he held, thinking that one day he could venture into the music business himself, just like Bumzu.  

 _“Don’t give up on the things that make you happy…”_ Junhui’s father certainly had a lot of sage quotes.

Jihoon couldn’t picture himself doing anything else but music in his future. He needed to pick up from where he left off; and disassociate pain from the thing that defined him the most.

Maybe he could turn this pain into song. But he needed time to find his groove back, time to heal.

At that moment, as he watched Seungcheol’s deep brown eyes staring back at him, he promised to never give music up.

For Seungcheol.

For his happiness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> took too long to update this fic i bet no one remembers it >.<  
> i had a lot of trouble writing this :( but! i am satisfied with it (somewhat)  
> it was supposed to be longer but giant chapters are hard to digest  
> and of course, there's more to come! !!  
> feedback would be very much appreciated <3


	4. Chapter 4

_The melodic sounds of birds singing woke Jihoon up from his slumber, and he could feel the mild warmth of the sun on his face. The scent of flowers hung heavily in the air; almost suffocating, intoxicating. Jihoon slowly opened his eyes to be greeted by the cloudless canvas of the azure sky. He immediately lifted his hand to protect his eyes from the brightness of the golden sun. All around him was nothing but tall grass, sprinkled here and there with tiny wildflowers. There was something tickling against his cheek - a fluffy white dandelion swaying in the gentle breeze, its seeds floating up into the air, seeking adventure of their own._

_Jihoon stretched languidly, breathing in the fresh spring air. His mind was completely at ease, free from the worries of the world. He sat up, his eyes following the trail of a colourful butterfly fluttering past his head. Taking a moment to appreciate the beauty of nature surrounding him, Jihoon smiled to himself, knowing that this was simply paradise. The greenness surrounding him seemed to stretch out towards the farthest ends of the world; and there was no other soul to be seen. He wanted to lie down and relax, revelling in the peace of mind this paradise granted him; but from the corner of his eye, he glimpsed an object in the distance, shining bright like a beacon, reflecting off the sun’s rays. The object piqued his interest, and he automatically got up to his feet. He trudged through the tall grass, heading towards the object, and finally reached a clearing._

_There it was, sitting on the summit of a hillock directly ahead - a little pinwheel, spinning lazily in the light breeze._

_Jihoon approached the pinwheel with renewed interest. But with every step he took up the hillock, sadness slowly engulfed his fragile little heart, aching at the sight of the lone pinwheel perched atop the summit. When Jihoon reached the top of the hillock, the pinwheel stopped moving abruptly. It was barely a few inches tall, almost miniscule, even next to Jihoon’s naturally small frame. He bent down and picked the pinwheel up, holding it carefully. It felt so light in his hands, weighing almost nothing. A memory suddenly flashed in his mind - a familiar million-dollar gummy smile, followed by a fond gaze from a pair of dark, playful eyes. Pieces of the man he loved the most, flicked past in his brain, random memories they had together, especially that one magical kiss -_

_There was a bittersweet taste at the back of his throat; and he could feel his nose getting stuffy; tears brimming at the edges of his eyes. It was as if the loneliness of the small pinwheel seeped through his skin, into his veins._

_Jihoon quickly put the pinwheel back where it belonged, hoping that the negative emotions would dissipate, but it was too late. An overwhelming sadness washed over him; all the thoughts and feelings he had for one man came flooding back, drowning him. He was already crying by the time he realised it, and he quickly walked down the hillock, away from the pinwheel. His hands trembling; his heart racing - all he wanted to do was break down and cry, to ease his tired heart._

_He took one last look at the unmoving pinwheel sitting alone on top of the hillock. Right then, a gust of bitingly cold wind whipped around him, numbing his fingers; and the pinwheel started spinning, faster and faster -_

_Even so, the pinwheel looked so alone, as if it was looking for someone._

_Waiting for someone._

_It felt like he was looking at himself._

*

“Jihoon!”

Someone roughly shook Jihoon awake, and he forced his eyes open, surprised to find himself in Wonwoo’s fancy den. Jeonghan and Joshua were peering curiously at him - he was panting hard, his school uniform rumpled - what a sight he must’ve been. He barely remembered falling asleep on the couch while Jeonghan and Joshua did their revision; while Soonyoung and Wonwoo disappeared elsewhere. Jeonghan silently handed him a tissue, which he accepted cluelessly, crumpling it in his grasp. His hands were shaking uncontrollably, and his body felt warm.

“You’re crying, Jihoon.” Joshua said gently. Jihoon touched his cheek, only to find it streaked with tears.

The lonely pinwheel in the lush green paradise had just been a dream, albeit being one that was emotion-wracking. It had all felt absolutely surreal - how could his feelings be stirred so strongly, remembering the bittersweet memories he had of the only person he’d ever loved? He’d never had a dream like it before, one that stimulated all his senses even in slumberland. Jihoon couldn’t shake the image of the lonely pinwheel from his mind, accompanied by a melody playing softly in the background…

Jihoon squeezed his eyes shut, grasping onto that intricate melody. It was one that he’d never heard before, but it sounded too familiar. He focused his brain onto that magical melody, scared that he might just lose the sudden inspiration - it was so, so fragile, like a thread that could snap anytime.

Ignoring the stares from his bandmates, Jihoon stumbled over to the piano in the corner, trying to replicate the tune playing louder and louder in his mind. His fingers were trembling as he tried to find the correct key to match the melody on loop in his mind. It took several tries, but he finally found the right notes, the right feeling: it was all slowly coming back to him – the flow of composing a song, hearing out for the perfect string of notes that would carve out into a song.

_It’s fine if you find me again even if it’s far in the future._

The words came to him naturally, phrases that his heart yearned to say for the person he loved the most. Maybe their time wasn’t now; maybe fate had given him time to grow and mature before he could give his heart to someone else. It was almost silly to hope so, but it gave something for Jihoon to believe in: that the future held things – people - for him to look forward to. The present was intended for his music – that was the only thing he had now; this was the time for him to perfect his craft. 

Jihoon quickly dug in his bag for his ~~science~~ lyric book, but it was missing. He couldn’t even recall where he left it, and he pouted in disappointment, fearing that his bubble of inspiration could pop at any given moment.

“Can we help you, Jihoon?” Jeonghan called out, watching the peach-haired boy frantically turn his school bag inside out to find his precious notebook.

“I need pen and a paper. Hurry.” Jihoon was practically bouncing on his feet, his eyes clouded with urgency, sparkling with inspiration. Joshua quickly tore a page off his notepad and handed him a biro. Grabbing the items, Jihoon went back to his perch in front of the piano; and began to scribble his endless ideas onto paper.

Jeonghan raised an eyebrow knowingly, and Joshua nodded back, a tiny smile on his face. Wonwoo stood in the doorway, crossing his arms over his chest with a tiny smirk on his face as he observed Jihoon’s frantic movements, music flowing out from the piano, which hadn’t been touched in weeks. The peach-haired boy seemed to be in his own world, and Wonwoo simply knew that Jihoon’s muse had returned. He didn’t need to know why, but he was glad – in the past weeks Jihoon wore his sadness like a grey cloud over his head, but now, he was practically glowing with focused determination, the same way he did when they first started the band.

“I have snacks!” Soonyoung announced, entering the den with a piping hot pot of tea and several cups. He’d been in the kitchen with Wonwoo’s mother for the past hour, probably trying to convince her that he was the perfect match for his son, thus, he was oblivious to Jihoon’s sudden inspiration that stemmed from his dream.

Soonyoung poured out a cup for himself and Wonwoo, leaving the rest for Jeonghan and Joshua. “Jihoon, want some tea?”

“He’s in the Zone.” Jeonghan said, gazing at the boy who’s busy composing at the piano.

The Zone – when Jihoon was untouchable, driven by creative juice as he composed brand-new melodies from his genius mind. Soonyoung’s mochi cheeks broadened out as he grinned at Jihoon’s breakthrough, slowly returning to be the music-loving boy he once was.

“Good. It’s been a while.”

*

Wonwoo let Jihoon colonise the piano in the den – no one else bothered to play, anyway – and the boy made full use of the opportunity, writing until dawn. Every day after school he’d head straight over to Wonwoo’s to compose, while his bandmates quietly did their homework in the background. All week he thought of nothing but the song, constantly improving it; perfecting it to his heart’s content. He kept rearranging whole sections of the song, rewriting the lyrics; that the final result was something completely different from the initial idea he had, save for the string of notes that made up the backbone of the song, the melody that constantly reminded him of the lonely pinwheel he’d seen in his dream.

When he finally thought he’d finished the song – a perfect composition that matched his recent contemplative mood – he let out a deep sigh of relief, smiling to himself. Then he placed his fingers on the ivory keys, practicing the song repeatedly so that it was ingrained into his mind.

It was a song that looked towards the future, the smooth arpeggios that opened the song reminiscent of the motion of a pinwheel spinning in the breeze. The lyrics came straight from his heart; holding a hopeful message. Jihoon kept playing his song, singing the words softly; trying not to cry.

Maybe one day he’ll meet Seungcheol again, under better circumstances…

The beautiful music Jihoon had written filled the room, everyone listening to it carefully; appreciating the lyrics. The emotions conveyed in the song felt so raw, sending goosebumps down everyone’s spine. Joshua reached out to hold Jeonghan’s hand, interlocking their fingers – the familiar touch was comforting; both of them almost scared to let go. And right next to Wonwoo, Soonyoung started filming Jihoon secretly, as he smoothly played the first few notes once more.

* * *

It was just another day at school, and the band of ragtags had taken to spending lunchtime in the deserted music room – if you could even call it one; it was more of a storage room with an ancient piano collecting dust in the corner. Joshua had his guitar out, singing quietly with his sweet voice; Jeonghan occasionally harmonizing. Wonwoo was reading a book; while Jihoon sat at the piano, itching to play his new song on the yellowing keys, but he was afraid that the instrument might just fall apart after years of neglect. There was no use sitting in front of the piano when he couldn’t play it, so Jihoon went over to Wonwoo and sat next to him, finding it odd that Soonyoung was nowhere to be seen.

He was about to ask, when Soonyoung suddenly barged into the room, breathless and sweaty. “Guys! I got us a gig.”

“That’s crazy.” Jeonghan says, as Joshua stopped playing. Wonwoo looked up from his book with interest, as Jihoon froze in shock at Soonyoung’s words.

Playing a gig for a certain person was precisely the reason why he started their little band…

“It’s true!” Soonyoung practically waved his phone into Jeonghan’s face. There it all was, in the form of a text message: all the details, inviting their unnamed band to become the opening act for a mini music festival at a club in the next town next weekend. Joshua started reading it out loud; an announcement that set things in stone for their little band.

“No way.” Jeonghan mouthed, turning to smile at Joshua. They’d always been a guitar duo before they joined the band, and their luck had always been horrible in securing gigs back then. Maybe this was a second chance for them as musicians; and as a new chapter for all of them.

“Yes, way!” Soonyoung said, proud of himself. “And we can’t say no because I already said yes!”

Joshua mulled the idea over – exams were mere weeks away. He’d started caring for his grades, as a senior, because it would be important for his future. A tiny part of him constantly nagged at him to buck up and ditch the band to focus on his studies, but when else was he going to do stupid things, if not in high school? It might be their first gig, or even their last, for all that matters. This was a golden, once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for him to play with his band onstage, letting the world know who they were, and what they had in store.

“I’m in.” Joshua pronounced confidently, never regretting his decision as he said it out loud.

“Whatever he says.” Jeonghan flashed a smile at his boyfriend, who reached out to hold his hand, interlocking their fingers.

Wonwoo simply nodded his silent agreement; then all of them looked towards Jihoon, who seemed deep in thought. Soonyoung almost expected Jihoon would turn down the gig, so it came as a surprise and relief when Jihoon glanced at them with a rare smile.

“Let’s do this.” Jihoon said confidently. He felt electricity running through his veins. This was what he’d been working for – his music to be recognized by other people, and not just by the people who knew him best. A gig was going to make them known, paving their way into the music industry. His heart was fluttering with nervous excitement, and judging from the looks on his friends’ faces, he knew that they were feeling the same way too.

“Great.” Soonyoung clapped his hands together. “Which brings us back to the age-old question: what is our band’s name?”

* * *

 

There was a bubble of pride swelling in Jihoon’s chest as he gazed at the glossy poster hanging on the wall. Inscribed on it were the names of the groups that would play at tonight’s mini music festival, held at the exclusive Blue Velvet club in the next town over from home. It was a glittering line up of bands that Jihoon had never heard of; but he was sure they were brilliant, judging from the number of people squeezed in front of the stage in the main area of the club. And right there at the bottom of the poster, underneath the stars of the show, is their band’s name.

Seventeen.

It had been a dumb argument deciding the band name – clearly, Jeonghan and Joshua shared one brain cell, and so did Soonyoung and Wonwoo.

_“Wonwoo and the Peach Guys.” Wonwoo had suggested without hesitation._

_Jeonghan rolled his eyes at the ridiculous idea. “God, Wonwoo, everything isn’t all about you. And all you do is stand behind your computer and tap a few keys.”_

_“You need me, Jeonghan. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be able to play decently without the rhythm that I provide for the whole band, that’s how important I am.” Wonwoo replied._

_Jeonghan turned to Joshua for backup, but Joshua simply shrugged, half agreeing with Wonwoo. “My roots are starting to show, though, so I don’t think we can go ahead with the peach theme.” He touched his hair, where a dark patch sprouted from his roots, replacing his dyed peach locks, as it grew longer._

_Soonyoung interjected with his own two cents. “Peachy Bomb.”_

_“No.” Jeonghan crossed his arms. “No more peach names.”_

_“Well, we gotta name ourselves something, because they need to announce our name and stuff.” Soonyoung retorted. They brainstormed for a while, throwing out random names, but no one had better ideas, in fact it turned into a peach-themed pun war, with Wonwoo winning._

_“What do you think, Jihoon?” Soonyoung asked the founder of their band, who’d been quiet and contemplative while the rest of them had been bickering about peach-themed band names._

_“Seventeen.” Jihoon muttered, thinking that no one would take him seriously, and continue bickering about peach-based names. The other guys seemed to have some weird obsession towards peaches that Jihoon didn’t understand; maybe distracting them with some other name out of the blue would stop them from talking about peaches. Besides, peaches reminded him of a certain someone, a certain model who routinely used to wear peach-scented cologne…_

_“That’s a good one.” Soonyoung nodded, immediately taking a liking to the name._

_Yet Joshua was sceptical. “A number?”_

_“Well, it’s the average of our age.” Wonwoo piped up out of the blue with his own interpretation of Jihoon’s suggestion. Jihoon never thought of it that way, but he nodded._

_Joshua narrowed his eyes disbelievingly. “Does anyone have a calculator?”_

_Soonyoung pulled one out of his bag, glancing around nervously as he pressed the power button, switching it on._

_“Three of us are seventeen, plus eighteen, plus eighteen…” Wonwoo directed, as Soonyoung followed his instructions closely, slowly pushing each button, taking forever to come up with the simple equation._

_“That makes eighty-seven.” Soonyoung finally held the device up, showing it to everyone._

_“You gotta divide it by five, dumbass.” Jeonghan said, slightly annoyed by the way that Soonyoung seemed to be struggling with a calculator._

_“Soonyoung might be a dumbass, but he’s my dumbass.” Wonwoo’s eyes flashed behind his glasses, which made Jeonghan automatically cling to Joshua._

_Soonyoung punched a few buttons accordingly and smiled triumphantly when the answer popped up on the screen. “It says seventeen point four!”_

_“Round it down.” Wonwoo said patiently, guiding his boyfriend._

_“How do you do it on a calculator?” Soonyoung scratched his head in confusion._

_Jeonghan was short of ripping his hair off in frustration. “Dammit, Soonyoung. The answer is seventeen!”_

_“So that’s our band name?” Joshua asked, seeking for clarification._

_“Whoever agrees, raise your hand and say, ‘I’.” Jeonghan sighed, taking over their fruitless discussion, hoping to end it quicker – time’s a-wasting, they could be practicing for their first gig right now._

_Five hands were raised, with a unanimous chorus._

The days leading up to the performance had been a whirlwind of preparations – it became a routine for the five of them: school in the morning, then band practice for the rest of the day until their eyes became tired. They’d decided on three songs – which was all they could fit into their ten-minute set; a couple of originals written by Jihoon, and a cover song.

They’d all slept over at Wonwoo’s house last night, pushing in a few more hours of band practice until the wee hours of the morning. Waking up to the scent of breakfast courtesy of Wonwoo’s mum, the boys had a hearty breakfast, before they quickly hopped onto the train to reach the next town in ample time for their gig – they’d gotten lost for a bit, lugging their instruments around the streets before they finally found the Blue Velvet, an established underground club for music performances. A grumpy bouncer standing guard at the back door didn’t let the underaged boys in, even when Soonyoung insisted loudly that they were running late for the show. That attracted attention of the club manager, who’d allowed them inside after a quick check, and he left them backstage to prep for their performance which would start very soon.

Backstage was organised chaos. Being newbies on the music scene, they hadn’t been given a waiting room, unlike the other artistes, so now they were lounging around in the cramped hallway, squeezed between equipment, and trying not to get in anyone’s way. Jeonghan and Joshua were tuning their instruments for the nth time, while Wonwoo stared at the ceiling, tapping his foot nervously, not listening to Soonyoung’s babbling, who’s excited by everything around them.

Jihoon gripped his guitar tighter, feeling nauseous and dizzy. His vision was swimming, and he let out a hacking cough, dangerously close to heaving out the remnants of the muffin Joshua had made him eat on the way here. There was an incessant buzz in his ears, and he turned to Soonyoung, who was merrily yakking away, unaware of Jihoon’s troubles.

“Seventeen, onstage in two minutes.” Someone yelled out, alerting the rest of the members, who perked up at the announcement. Their debut was minutes away, this was what they’d been practicing for. Jeonghan, Joshua and Wonwoo started towards the stage, where a roadie was waiting to hook their instruments up to the sound system.

“I can’t do this, Soonyoung.” Jihoon blurted out, the colour drained from his face.

Worry flashed over the self-appointed band manager’s face, his smile fading away. The band was due to be on stage in just mere seconds, so this was a bad time for their lead singer to have a breakdown. Soonyoung had spent so much time and effort trying to wrangle their (formerly) no-name band a gig in a different town, with help from Bumzu; and the journey to the Blue Velvet itself had been tiring for all of them. They’d gone too far for Jihoon to chicken out at the very last second.

“Jihoon, you’ve got to get onstage.” Soonyoung urged. He could see the stage manager approaching them, wearing a stern look, about to ask them what the hell was holding them up, they’ve got other important acts and a whole show to run.

Jihoon stubbornly shook his head, looping his guitar strap over his shoulders, taking it off.

“This is what you wanted, right?” Soonyoung tried a different approach to convince Jihoon to get onstage. He couldn’t imagine the embarrassment of pulling out of their very first gig – it might just get them blacklisted from performing at other venues. Soonyoung had imagined this gig to be their launchpad into greater things in the future; maybe they were just amateurs, but with time and more practice, they’d surely improve to be one of the best bands. Soonyoung might just be band manager, but he had so many goals for them – he wasn’t just aiming for the stars; he was aiming for greatness multiplied by infinity and beyond. That was how much he trusted the band, and despite their many fallbacks, he’d never doubted them once. 

Jihoon forlornly shook his head, squatting on the floor. He tried to focus on the grimy, cracked flooring, trying not to let toxic thoughts cloud his brain. There was no point in doing this gig. They were just pretenders, vying for their own five minutes of fame. What were they trying to prove? That a bunch of kids could play music? Their time as a group would be up soon, when Jeonghan and Joshua graduated, and walk their own path towards their own dreams. Jihoon loved music, but he didn’t know why he was still doing it.

“Why did you start this band?” Soonyoung voiced out the question playing in Jihoon’s mind.

Jihoon lets out a tired sigh, staring at Soonyoung’s sneakered feet. He admitted the truth. “I wanted to impress…him.” 

That kind of motivation was the worst – his inspiration had disappeared when Seungcheol left, so it had been a miracle that he’d been able to write a new song: _Pinwheel,_ based off his dreams. Yet now Jihoon had no one to impress, so he felt that his whole façade was a waste of time.

“Say his name.” Soonyoung said forcefully, but Jihoon clammed up, gluing his eyes shut. “Say his name, Jihoon.”

Jihoon couldn’t bring himself to utter that name, one that belonged to a person who built him up and tore him down.

“Say it!” Soonyoung shook Jihoon’s shoulders, hoping that his friend would regain the passion he had when they’d first started out, all starry-eyed at the thrill of making music like a real band. Just when Soonyoung believed that he was ready to move on and create more music instead of living his in thoughts, pining for Seungcheol; Jihoon fell right back into the black hole that sucked all his hope away – just seconds from the band’s first public performance.  

“Hey, do you ladies wanna perform or not?” A roadie with a headset piped up from behind them. “Crowd’s waiting.” Jeonghan, Joshua and Wonwoo were standing by, concerned for Jihoon, but they didn’t want to interrupt the fierce way Soonyoung was trying to console him.

“You hear that? This isn’t a time for you to be a diva, Jihoon.” Soonyoung said.  

A lump formed in Jihoon’s throat. He wanted to sulk and hide from the world, raging at how unfair life is towards him, holding on tightly onto things that he couldn’t change; as if overthinking about it would magically turn back time and he could somehow convince Seungcheol to stay.

He did form this band to impress the model. But he’d agreed to perform tonight because of his love for music.

“You got this, buddy. Wonwoo and Jeonghan and Joshua will be there onstage with you. I’ll be here. You’re not alone.” Soonyoung said quietly.

Jihoon would be the most selfish person on Earth if he ditched the band at this moment. So he squared his shoulders, and strapped his guitar on, even if there was still an uneasy feeling in his gut. He let a roadie hook his guitar to an amplifier, and he could hear the emcee opening the show, letting the crowd guess the first act.

Jeonghan glanced at Jihoon with concern, wishing that he could give the boy some encouraging words, but he didn’t get the chance; the stage manager was already pushing them onstage - it’s showtime. 

“And it’s time for our first performers, let’s welcome Seventeen!”

*

Bright lights. That was what Jihoon remembered.

The spotlights were so bright that he couldn’t see the audience, which had been good, so he could focus all his nervous energy into playing the best first gig of his life.

No, he was lying – it wasn’t the best performance. 

His voice had cracked, and he’d stumbled over a few chords; even forgetting the lyrics that he’d penned himself. What a disappointment. Jihoon was glad that Seungcheol wasn’t there to see him make an ass of himself in front of a sea of strangers.

It hadn’t been magical. It had been stressful and daunting, and he felt embarrassed to share his music to the world. The crowd had been tame, clapping politely when the four-piece band slunk backstage when their set ended, so maybe it hadn’t all been a loss.

Jihoon was glad that Seventeen’s ten-minute set was over, and he was now sitting at a table at the back of the room, nursing a lukewarm glass of cola. Jeonghan and Joshua had disappeared somewhere (“bathroom”, they’d said), while Soonyoung was busy scouting out the rest of the line-up, bobbing his head in time to the music, and Jihoon half-expected him to break out some dance moves. Wonwoo was tapping on his laptop – the one that he had specially to produce beats for the band, in deep focus on something that Jihoon didn’t really care about. The bespectacled boy had the simplest job in the band, to stand there and adjust beats on his laptop for Jeonghan’s bass to match; both acting as the backbone for Joshua’s lead guitar and Jihoon’s vocals. The other bands had cool drummers and fancy guitar solos and incredible falsettos that Jihoon thought he couldn’t pull off. Jihoon unconsciously started comparing his own band to the others as the show went on, thinking of ways that they could’ve done better during their set.

_I can’t even sing that high, now that’s a nice bass solo and damn that drummer is the real deal._

As the night dragged on and the acts changed, Jihoon couldn’t help but become awestruck by the different bands that played after them. He felt like doing two things: run home and hide under his covers for a whole lifetime, or head over to Bumzu’s studio with his bandmates and continue to improve their act. He was still disappointed at their mediocre performance, yet watching experienced musicians made him want to dive in and swim in the comforting waters of music. There were still new sounds to explore, songs to be written, and gigs to be played – Jihoon’s confidence was building slowly; like a tiny ember in the darkness, ready to snuff into nothing, or burst into flames that would light up his world.

“Hey, aren’t you guys Seventeen?” A hulking man loomed over their table, but despite his brawny look, he sported a wide, friendly smile. “I’m Bandit.”

Soonyoung recognized the man as the lead guitarist for New’est, one of the main acts for the night. Fresh off the stage, Bandit had been heading to the bar for a drink when he spotted the boys, and dropped by to say hello. Their set earlier had been electrifying, hyping up the whole place with strong drum beats and numerous guitar solos. The diversity in their repertoire impressed even Jihoon, ranging from to fun dance tracks to sweet acoustic ballads, before ending their set with an explosive rock song that brought the house down.

“I’m Edward Kwon, Seventeen’s manager, and this is mine, he’s Wonwoo; he’s in the band.” Soonyoung grinned, grabbing his boyfriend’s arm. “Your set was killer, by the way.”

“So were you guys.” Bandit quipped, smiling back. “You guys write your own material?”

Soonyoung nodded proudly, gesturing at Jihoon. “Our genius founder, songwriter, lead vocalist, Lee Jihoon.”

Bandit held out a hand towards Jihoon. “Props to you, kid.”

Jihoon muttered a shy thank you, shaking Bandit’s hand - the hand that had played a complicated guitar riff just minutes ago onstage. He wondered if his band could ever achieve that too; mastering a cool guitar solo that sent goosebumps all around.

Bandit gave Jihoon’s hand a friendly squeeze. “Hope to see you guys playing more stuff.”

“We sure will!” Soonyoung replied confidently, his eyes shining.

“I like that spirit.” Bandit reached out to high five Soonyoung, who slapped his hand energetically. “I gotta jet, so see you guys around.”

“Bye, bro!” Soonyoung waved as Bandit disappeared into a cluster of bodies clamouring for a good spot before the long-awaited final performance started. “Why are you guys less than excited? That guy’s practically a celebrity.” Soonyoung pouted, turning to look at Jihoon and Wonwoo, but the pair were absorbed in their own worlds. Wonwoo was already back on his laptop, sampling new beats, while Jihoon looked like he was zoning out, staring at his drink.   

Soonyoung sighed. It felt like he was babysitting a pair of distracted cats, both not paying attention to him. “Babe, you can do that at home, not in a club.” Soonyoung chastised Wonwoo, covering the laptop screen, only to be greeted with a grunt of defiance.

“Jihoon.” The intense way Jihoon was looking at his drink, unblinkingly, scared Soonyoung a little. He gently poked his friend’s shoulder, half-expecting Jihoon to throw an annoyed glance at him, but Jihoon seemed to be fully fixated on the glass of cola in front of him.

Soonyoung gave up trying to bother his friends, and ended up pouting with his arms crossed, counting to a hundred, hoping that either of them would talk to him.

“Hey!” Joshua appeared at their table with Jeonghan in tow, both of them looking a tad dishevelled, but with glowy, satisfied smiles on their faces.

“Hey, Jihoon’s in The Zone.” Jeonghan said, glancing at the peach-haired boy, who was still in deep thought. “We should bounce.”

Wonwoo shut his laptop as Jihoon started moving his fingers, like he was playing guitar. No one else heard the melody that Jihoon was crafting in his mind; his surroundings melting away. Inspired by all the performances he’d seen that evening, and an encouraging word from a respected musician, Jihoon wanted to become better, and he was starting by composing a new song in the middle of the loud, chaotic club.

“Let’s give Jihoon a guitar and get out of here.”  

* * *

Joshua cracked his knuckles, the tiny pops satisfying him. His fingers were cramping, but the guitar riff Jihoon had been teaching him was highly interesting, and he vowed to himself that he was going to master it. He’d ditched his plectrum a while ago, because the guitar solo Jihoon wrote was better played fingerstyle. He launched into it once more, for the nth time that afternoon, as Jihoon watched him intently with his own guitar in his lap, ready to point out any mistake.

It had been a few days since Seventeen’s first-ever performance at the Blue Velvet, and since then, Jihoon had spent his time crafting a guitar solo, inspired from that night. He’d wrote it, practiced and perfected it himself, then showed Joshua how to play it, which they’d been doing for the past few hours in Wonwoo’s living room.

“Jihoon, can you stop torturing my bae and let him sit with me for five minutes?” Jeonghan called out from the couch lazily.

“I’m busy, Hannie.” Joshua said, focusing on his frantic plucking; the strings of his guitar twanging. He played the quick triplets almost perfectly, trying to remember the notes and the matching rhythm so that it became ingrained in his mind.

“You should take a break.” Jihoon said quietly, when Joshua finished playing another round.

“In a bit.” Joshua replied. He glanced quickly at his boyfriend lying on the couch with his eyes closed – it would be seconds before Jeonghan dozed off. He started playing the riff again, repeating it over and over like a broken record; after all, perfection couldn’t be rushed, and it all came from practice.

Wonwoo loped into the living room, heading over to the couch to lie down near Jeonghan. Behind him, Soonyoung followed, with a sheepish expression, looking less like his confident self.

“Hey, Jihoon, wanna go to the convenience store and grab some snacks?” Soonyoung asked.

A walk would be nice, so Jihoon agreed without hesitation. He didn’t want to get on Jeonghan’s bad side anyway, for hogging Joshua’s company almost the whole afternoon. Soonyoung was already restless, bouncing on the balls of his feet; his eyes flitting everywhere in the room except at Wonwoo. Something was definitely up between them, but Jihoon didn’t want to know, so he put his guitar aside and followed Soonyoung out of the house.

It was a nice, balmy day; spring was in full bloom. Flowers burst from the trees lining the street, petals floating to the ground like confetti. Jihoon half-wished that he could share this moment with someone else, instead of Soonyoung – he couldn’t lie, Seungcheol still plagued his thoughts when he wasn’t busy making music.

The walk was short, and they entered the store accompanied by a jingle. Soonyoung headed straight to the drinks section, grabbing a bottle of cold milk tea for Wonwoo.  

Jihoon walked aimlessly between the aisles, barely looking at the colourful packaging of snacks neatly arranged on the shelves. He had nothing to buy – though some cola would be nice – and his thoughts were elsewhere, thinking about how to improve the new song he was writing.

“Do you want anything?” Soonyoung popped up by Jihoon’s side, lugging along a basket laden with snacks (and they’d only been in the store for about five minutes). “Got you some cola.”

Jihoon nodded, as a quiet sign of thanks for his friend. He followed Soonyoung around wordlessly, as Soonyoung grabbed more food items that would be enough to feed a family of five for three days.

Randomly stopping at the magazine racks, Soonyoung picked up a copy of a men’s magazine and started flipping through it. He’d been intrigued by the blurb on the cover – _How to Become Irresistible for Your Significant Other!;_ took a few minutes to read the article (which had generic tips like be yourself, eat healthy etc) then scanned the rest of the pages, contemplating whether to purchase it.

Jihoon scanned the rest magazines on the rack – most of them fashion and wellness magazines, with skinny models posing on each cover. He took a second to think about Seungcheol – did he leave to fulfil his aspirations of becoming a model? Did he succeed? Jihoon missed his gummy, dimpled smile, and the way his eyes shone when he spoke about the things that he was passionate about. With his handsome looks, surely, he’d get somewhere, working towards his dreams. That notion eased Jihoon’s heart a little; vowing that he’d work hard to achieve his own goals in music, as well. 

“Whoa.” Soonyoung gasped suddenly, almost dropping the heavy basket hanging on his arm. “I don’t think you should see this.” He instantly closed the magazine, which piqued Jihoon’s interest even more. Soonyoung had always been bad at keeping secrets, and Jihoon glanced at him, analysing his expression. Nervous. Secretive. He wouldn’t expect an assault from Jihoon, but clearly, he wanted to leave, even though he was still clutching that damn magazine.

“Whatever. Let’s go.” Jihoon muttered, but he quickly reached out to snatch the magazine in Soonyoung’s hands. Surprised, Soonyoung yields it quickly, but the sudden motion had caused some of the things in his basket to drop on the floor.

“You could’ve just taken your own copy!” Soonyoung huffed, picking his things up. There were several more copies stocked on the rack, but Jihoon just had to furiously lunge for the one that he’d been holding. He’d tried to protect Jihoon from inevitable heartache, but if Jihoon didn’t want to be protected, then so be it.

Jihoon stared at the black and white magazine spread; his heart beating faster when he recognized that all too familiar face adorning the pages.

There he was, in printed glory, Choi Seungcheol, wearing nothing but a pair of boxer briefs.

Jihoon’s first instinct was to grip the magazine so tightly that it made little dents in the pages.

His brooding look, his styled hair – it all seemed so professional. And hidden underneath his usual denim jacket all this time was a toned, muscular body, now immortalised in a print advertisement for a mid-range underwear brand for the whole world to see. Jihoon gazed at the photo, noticing that Seungcheol had lost some weight – or was that the magic of airbrushing, overused in beauty and fashion to create an unrealistic body ideal? Still, Jihoon couldn’t help but ogle over the picture – he’d been thinking of Seungcheol just moments ago, so it had to be serendipity, seeing him again, albeit in a magazine, almost naked.

Seungcheol’s moody gaze shot straight to Jihoon’s heart – clearly, he was still in love with the model; even looking at Seungcheol’s pouty lips reminded him of the kisses they’d shared, so warm and loving and tender. Jihoon felt tears springing to his eyes just thinking about it, and he blinked them away so he could focus on the beautiful being in the magazine. He stared longingly at Seungcheol’s pecs and abs and biceps, wondering what it would feel like to touch them.

Yet behind all that, Jihoon felt like Seungcheol’s eyes were telling him that he was slowly making a mark in the business: _I did it, Jihoonie. You can, too._

Spurred by the sudden motivation, Jihoon simply knew that he had to write more songs for the band so they could record a demo. He had to get back now and continue honing his craft so he could be as successful as Seungcheol. He turned to Soonyoung, who’d been looking at Seungcheol’s picture too, over his shoulder. “Buy me this magazine.” He demanded with a straight face and a no-nonsense tone. “And these ones, too.” Jihoon piled more copies of the same magazine into Soonyoung’s basket, then marched him to the cashier counter before he could protest.

They left the convenience store with an inspired Jihoon, ten copies of the same magazine, enough food stock for a week, and a sad Soonyoung with an empty wallet. Still, Soonyoung could notice a spring in Jihoon’s step as they headed back to Wonwoo’s house; and he sensed a renewed air of confidence surrounding his friend.

This could be a catalyst to greater, and better things.   

* * *

Jihoon sat on the bench in the park, humming to himself, scribbling down lyrics in his notebook. He’d detached himself from his bandmates today, who’d all been disgustingly lovey-dovey. He wasn’t jealous, no – he had better things to do, like write songs for someone special, who’d been gone for a while now. Yet Jihoon held onto that little sliver of hope, in the slim chance that he’d meet Seungcheol in the future. 

_Now I need anything just like you; but I don't have one, so we'll meet again._

_You have to be doing fine until I get there - I'm looking for you right now._

Were those big words, coming from a high school kid, trying to look for a lost love that doesn’t want to be found? After all, Seungcheol left without a trace. Jihoon sincerely hoped for Seungcheol to be chasing after his dreams – after all, no news was good news – and the magazine spread had shown that he’d achieved it.

_Then I can find you, who cares if it’s a bit far?_

_I’ll follow the line that connects us two_

Jihoon remembered Seungcheol’s words: they were the only ones from this little town who would make it big in their respective fields – music and fashion. Dreamer’s words, but Seungcheol had been speaking them into existence, making it clear that he knew exactly what he wanted. Jihoon thought that Seungcheol would’ve gone to the big city, looking for opportunities. They’d bonded over the songs Jihoon wrote – maybe this new piece would help launch Seventeen’s musical career; it sounded radio-worthy. And if Seventeen became famous, they could move to the big city for better exposure, and maybe then Jihoon would find Seungcheol…

Jihoon wished he’d brought his guitar along, so he could test out the lyrics to the rock-inspired melody he’d been working on for the past few days. He mouthed out what he’d just written a couple of times, imagining how it would sound like with music.

_The day when your time and my time faces each other, I will hold you_

_Please be well until I get there_

_I really, really…_

_Miss you._

Jihoon shut his ~~science~~ lyric book and set it aside, feeling emotionally drained after pouring his heart out into lyrics. He leaned back, letting out a tiny sigh, gazing at the blooming flowers surrounding him to rest his tired mind. And amidst the falling petals – like a scene from a movie – Jihoon saw Seungcheol standing a few feet away, smiling at him, carrying a duffel bag.

Jihoon blinked his eyes rapidly, thinking that he was slowly going mad missing the model, as mirage-Seungcheol approached the bench, getting closer. His mind was a muddle; he couldn’t believe his own eyes that Seungcheol was really here, now standing in front of him, looking as handsome as ever.

A day never passed without Jihoon dreaming of Seungcheol to return, but those dreams were muted – in his imagination, they never spoke. But now, Jihoon knew it wasn’t just his imagination when Seungcheol opened his mouth to say in his warm, familiar tone: “Is this seat taken?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> songs;
> 
> [ pinwheel - seventeen](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FslUTgfCZPk)  
> [ run to you - seventeen ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7QGXsQklZgo)
> 
> * * *
> 
>   * wee woo look who's back! :D 
>   * am i super subtle with the other bands i put in the poster hehe 
>   * if you're reading this, thank you ;-; i feel bad for abandoning this one but i'll finish it >.<
> 

> 
> ###### feedback is highly appreciated 


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